


Gold Rush

by voidsoda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bickering, Christmas Party, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Slytherins, Hogsmeade Dates, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Eighth Year Common Room, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, harry has a bisexual panic, mcgonagall deserves a raise, only they dont understand its a date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28897587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidsoda/pseuds/voidsoda
Summary: The one where Harry and Draco turn mandatory shared therapy sessions into another reason for McGonagall to quit her job, mixed with bisexual panic and broken noses.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	1. one ~ september

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post about freckles :)

The moon was full, shining through the tall windows, lighting up pieces of apple pie and cups of pumpkin juice. This was what it was supposed to be like. Students chattering, not a care in the world. Laughs erupting every few minutes, chocolate frogs jumping out of the tight grips of people's hands. Harry stared at the end of the Gryffindor table where the newly sorted students sat, looking at the amounts of food with disbelief. He felt a pang of jealousy. That had been him, only eight years ago. Only he didn't have the luxury of the easy years they were about to head into.

He swirled his fork in a piece of apple that'd fallen out of his pie, mushing it. He wasn't hungry anyway. Maybe it was too much. He'd told Molly and Arthur every would be fine, and at the time he truly thought it would be. Hogwarts wasn't a battle place anymore. But it felt like one. Every corner, every portrait, every classroom. It reminded him of everything. And sometimes if he didn't pay enough attention to everything around him, the sounds of the war would creep back. They'd fill his ears, his brain. And for a single second it felt like it all returned. A single second, though it felt like hours.

But he was glad he was here. He wasn't going to let the past ruin his future of an auror. And besides, he really wanted to redo his seventh year. He wanted to reconnect with his friends, his professors. Some days he even found himself looking forward to the long potions essays he'd have to make.

'Harry', Hermione nudged him. 'Stop turning that apple into applesauce', she whispered. She gently took his fork from his hand and laid it down.

Harry gave her a sheepish smile. It was fine, He thought. He'd be fine. Maybe not right now, but soon. Soon the war memories would stop, and he'd have a peaceful year at Hogwarts for once. Soon.

The whispering around him died down, followed by Mcgonagall's voice echoing through the room.

'Welcome!' She spoke. 'Before you all leave and head to bed, I have a couple announcements to make. Firstly, we are thrilled to have all of you here, but we acknowledge the difficulty of returning here after the devastating events that have taken place. Therefore we will have counsellors for every house available. Feel free to give them a small visit if you're feeling down or are having a tough time. Next to that, there also will be monthly check ins with everyone within the first couple months to make sure everyone is receiving the aid they need.

'Just like every other year, the forbidden forest remains forbidden. Anyone caught there without supervision will be faced with the consequences. The same rules apply for the restricted section of the school library. Lastly, this year, and the following years, we will be paying extra attention to interhouse cooperation. Though we appreciate house unity, we do not want to encourage a division within students. We have thereby decided to move all of the students returning to retake their seventh year to a separate, mixed common room in Albus Dumbledore's old office, as a first step towards interhouse cooperation. I request all these students to follow me when everyone else has left for their common room.

Now, I believe I have said everything I needed to, so I will let all of you get ready for the very first classes tomorrow. Make sure to follow the head boy or girl of your house to your common room, and I hope you all have a great school year.'

While the students around them raised their voices and followed their houses out of the great hall, Harry and Ron were staring at Hermione for an explanation. She, however, looked just as confused as the boys.

Ron opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed. He looked around the hall, and after a couple of minutes he finally seemed to be able to say something. 'Did she just...'

'I think she just told us we.. are banned from our common rooms?' Harry asked, a confused look clouding his face.

'Don't be silly, Harry', said Hermione. 'I'm sure we'll be allowed to return to our common rooms. Mcgonagall is just trying to reunite the houses more, and our slim group of returning students is the obvious choice for experiments.'

'We'll be living with Slytherins...', Ron groaned and he buried his face in his hands. Next to him Harry mirrored his movements.

'Boys.'

'Oh', Harry looked up and blinked. 'Erm. Hello.. professor, erm.. we were just..'

'Save it boys', she said. 'Come on, follow me.'

Their new common room was uncomfortably neutral. It had white and black sofa's only, not a hint of color. Harry appreciated the idea of unity between houses, but this was simply put; depressing. The only color were the red and orange flames coming from the fireplace.

'Cheery', Ron mumbled as they walked in.

'Boy's dormitory's on the left, girl's on the right', Mcgonagall informed. 'I will see you all in class tomorrow. Good night.'

Harry let his hands slide along the plain sofa's. There were four, in every corner of the tower. In the middle stood a large salon table, and on it laid a piece of parchment.

'Guys..', Harry said as he approached it. 'I think these are our therapy session.'

'We don't need therapy', Seamus sighed. 'This is insane over the top.'

'Why are there two names for every session?' a Ravenclaw girl asked.

Parkinson pushed her away. 'What?'

Harry turned the parchment his way, his eyes only focused on one line.

_Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday, 4 pm - Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy - Professor Mcgonagall_

He looked up, searching for Malfoy in the crowd. His ice white hair stood out. It always did. He frowned when he noticed Harry's gaze, and Harry nodded the parchment's way. Malfoy pushed through the other students. He looked equally mortified by the information on the paper, and Harry started to rethink his excitement for this school year.

~

The eighth year students all knew living together was the worst idea Mcgonagall had ever had, but the professor had been very clear that she would not change anything about it. So after a week, they all gave up trying to convince her to let them return to their house common rooms.

Monday was a mess, and so was Tuesday. It was Slytherin students in one corner, Gryffindors in the other, and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs retreating to their rooms or the library, tired of their endless rivalry. Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to ignore the Slytherins, but they made it incredibly hard. Zabini gave them patronizing laughs, which Parkinson would complete with nasty glances and whispers to her friends. Malfoy simply stared at the Gryffindors like they were filth on his jacket.

'What is their problem?' Ron whispered between gritted teeth.

'They're Slytherins', Harry replied. 'That's their problem.'

'We're supposed to be uniting the houses', said Hermione as she crossed her arms.

'They aren't uniting anything, 'mione, so neither are we', Ron whined.

Harry drowned out their argument. Arguments between the two were a daily thing now, and Harry had come to understand that those arguments were the foundation of their relationship. He wasn't exactly sure how that worked, it just seemed to.

'Potter', Malfoy's voice sounded.

Harry looked over his shoulder and almost jumped back, startled by Malfoy standing right behind him. 'Bloody hell', he muttered.

'It's four.'

'Thanks, I can tell the time, I'm not stupid.'

'You are stupid, Potter. That's not what I mean though.'

Harry sighed, closed his eyes, ran his hand through his hair. 'Malfoy, just tell me what you want.'

'I don't want anything', he snarled.

'Then stop being such a prick', said Harry.

'That's rich coming from you.'

'Do you enjoy terrorizing innocent boys?'

'Oh sure Potter, go on and make yourself the victim.'

'You're verbally harassing me, Malfoy, I am the victim.'

'You called me a prick.'

'You called me stupid.'

'Yes, you are stupid, because our therapy appointment started five minutes ago and you're in your pajama's.'

Harry furrowed his brows. 'What?'

'Our therapy appointment with Mcgonagall?'

'Marriage counseling is what you guys need, not therapy!' Zabini yelled, causing Malfoy to throw a cushion his way, accompanied by a handful of insults.

Harry on the other hand, was panicking, since he was in fact still in his pyjama's. He doubted it would look good if he showed up wearing those, but he also didn't think being any later than ten minutes would leave a good impression. And so he stood up, flattened his hair with the palm of his hands, tried to rub away the dark circles under his eyes and hurried after Malfoy, who was already halfway the stairs.

'You're wearing pajama's?' Malfoy asked.

'I don't exactly have much of a choice!'

'See? Stupid.'

~

Mcgonagall's office was the furthest from house equality an office could be. It was all Gryffindor banners and quidditch cups, red carpets and golden desks. Even the spines of the books on the shelves were Gryffindor colored. Harry loved everything about it. Next to him, Malfoy's face became sour as the amount of red and gold increased by the minute.

Mcgonagall was sitting at her desk, staring at a piece of parchment paper, right before scrabbling something on it and throwing it on a pile of parchments filled with red pen scratches.

'Boys', she said without looking up. 'You're both late.'

Before Harry could even open his mouth, Malfoy stepped forward. 'It was Potters fault, professor. I had nothing to do with it.'

'Bugger off', Harry whispered.

'Malfoy, sit down', Mcgonagall sighed. 'I wasn't even expecting you boys at all, so I'm just relieved you both decided to show up', her gaze travelled to Harry's clothing. 'Even if it is in an inappropriate way.'

She cleared her throat and motioned to the two seats in front of the desk, in which both boys took place. They made sure to position their legs away from each other.

Mcgonagall tilted her head. 'So, I assume you both understand why I have chosen to pair the two of you for these exercises?'

'Not really, Professor', said Harry.

Mcgonagall smiled. 'Well Potter, I believe there is something we can learn from our greatest enemy. And besides, I see no reason for the two of you to continue your rivalry. I was hoping these session could resolve any tension between you.'

'With all due respect professor, I doubt me and Potter will become friends', Malfoy scoffed.

Harry inhaled. 'For once in my life, I'm going to have to agree with Malfoy.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' the Slytherin jerked his head Harry's way.

'Just that nothing you say is right.'

'Right?'

'You're always wrong, basically. It's quite embarrassing, I don't know how you maintain your ego.'

'I do not have that big of an ego.'

'You think you're all that, but you're really not. One day, you're going to have to accept that.'

'And one day you're going to have to accept that you peaked in high school, Potter.'

'At least I peaked somewhere, Malfoy.'

The ringing of a bell broke their argument, and both students slowly turned to the desk, on which a golden bell stood. Mcgonagall looked positively exhausted, already, as she was pressing on the bell with full force.

'Erm..', Harry blinked. 'Excuse me but.. does this mean something? Are we supposed to do something?'

She smiled. 'Yes. Stop talking. Please', she sighed.

She stood up from her seat, sat down on her desk. 'Boys, do you know why I paired you two?'

Harry saw Malfoy stare at him from the corner of his eye. 'No', he murmured.

'Because this', she moved her finger between the two. 'Has got to stop. The time for meaningless insults has come to an end. I believe you can become excellent friends if you put in some effort.'

Malfoy grinned. 'I doubt that.'

'Potter', she said, focusing on Harry. 'What do you think you can learn from Malfoy?'

Harry furrowed his brow as he looked over to the blond on his side, who was balancing a pencil on the back of his pinky finger, not paying any attention to the conversation happening next to him.

'How to behave like a total arsehole when someone is trying to help', Harry concluded, folding his hands in his lap.

'You already do that, Potter', Malfoy replied without looking up from the pencil.

'At least I'm listening to professor Mcgonagall. Is the pencil really that interesting?'

'Yes, it is, actually. Everything is more interesting than you, saint Potter. You're all rainbows and golden smiles, with the personality of a cabbage.'

'Boys', Mcgonagall rested the palms of her hands on her desk and leaned forward.

'Oh, sorry, being nice is boring now?' Harry snarled. 'I guess I'll go make some plans to murder the headmaster, maybe that'll make me more interesting.'

'Did you hear that professor? He just threatened to kill you.'

'Wow Malfoy you're hilarious. Truly. The funniest.'

'I'm funnier than you ever will be.'

'BOYS!' The slamming of Mcgonagall's palms on the desk shocked Harry's eyes away from Malfoy, meeting Mcgonagall's.

Harry was surprised there wasn't any steam coming out of her ears.

'From now on, both of you only get to speak when I give you permission', she declared. 'Is that clear?'

'Ye-', Harry slowly shut his mouth, and then simply nodded.

'Good', she sighed. 'Now, Potter, I'll ask you again. What can you learn from Malfoy? You have permission to speak.'

Harry wanted to jump out the window. Run through the corridors, to the common room. Then hide under the covers of his bed until professor Mcgonagall had no choice but to release them from these sessions, for the sake of Harry's health.

'How to put too much gel in my hair.'

He could see the disappointment drip off professor Mcgonagall once the words had left his mouth. Blue, sad, disappointment dripping onto the red carpet. It turned violet. She closed her eyes, let her head hang back and took a deep breath. 'Okay..', she spoke quietly before releasing her breath and focusing on Malfoy.

'Malfoy', she began. 'What can you learn from Potter?'

'How to make my hair look like a birds nest', he responded without missing a beat.

Her eyes shifted between the two. 'Well', she said. 'Good to know the both of you spend so much time observing the others hair. I hope you notice that these are far from acceptable answers, but I don't suppose we'll get much further than this today. I'll let both of you go back to the common room, but I expect you to have a better answer to my question on our next session, and- yes Potter?'

Harry lowered his hand. 'I, erm.. when is our next session again? I forgot..', he directed Malfoy his middle finger under the desk when he noticed him rolling his eyes.

'Our next session will be on Thursday, then on Sunday. So, this Thursday I want both of you to have an honest, well thought out answer. Understood?'

Both boys nodded, both hating how in sync they were.

'Good', Mcgonagall said. 'You can go now.'

Harry never left a room faster.


	2. two ~ september

Harry never expected everything to go back to the way it was within seconds. He knew it would take time. He knew that he wasn't going to wake up one day and not feel like being stabbed in the back when seeing the portraits in the hall, or the banners in the common room. He knew it wouldn't happen overnight. That didn't make it any easier though.

Wednesday was a perfectly normal day. It was boring classes, in which he tried to pay attention, but failed miserably. He ended up borrowing Hermione's notes for all of them, which was perfectly normal, because he'd always done that. Dinner was perfectly normal too. Ron ate too much, Hermione stared at him with looks that were half disbelief, half impressed, and Harry would copy homework while his parchment got stained with condiments and grease. But then the hall became too small, and everything became too dark, and all he could think about was how he had to get away. Voices of people next to him died down as the sound of his heart grew louder and louder. And so he jumped up and ran. He was fairly sure he knocked over a couple of first years, but he had to get away. Air. He needed air.

He just managed to stop running before he fell into the lake.

He kneeled down as he ran his fingertips through the water, and he tried to breathe. The water was still, and somehow it made every nerve in his body calm as well. Until he opened his mouth.

'It would be so easy to push you in right now', Malfoy commented, and Harry didn't even have to turn around to know he was grinning from ear to ear, probably incredibly impressed with his own insult.

'Go away, Malfoy', he replied.

'Awh, is Harry Potter having a little crisis?' Malfoy pouted. 'Oh no, does Ginny Weasley like me? Now that Dumbledore isn't here anymore, who's going to give Gryffindor unnecessary points? And, awh, I miss my mum and dad', he said in a baby voice.

'Hilarious', Harry pressed his lips together.

'It's funny because it's true. Personality of a cabbage.'

Harry jumped up, his fingers still wet from the lake. 'Oh, I'm Malfoy and I'm about to murder an innocent man. But I won't do it, because I'm a coward, and I'll just cry a bunch on the astronomy tower and whine about how I don't have a choice', he bit back, butchering his Malfoy impersonation.

'That's all you can come up with?' Malfoy scoffed.

'Having a cabbage personality is better than being a death eater.'

'Former death eater', he swallowed.

Harry folded his arms over each other. 'Once a death eater, always a death eater. Right?' He raised his brow. 'People don't change Malfoy. Especially you.'

He heard Malfoy swallow and mumble something along the lines of fuck you, and then he stomped away, kicking stones as he walked along the river. _Fuck you_ , Harry thought. He would've yelled it back if he had the energy.

~

Harry arrived at professor Mcgonagall's office with a million books and pieces of parchments carried in his arms, opening the door with his foot. His charms class ended at four, and he had to be at his therapy session at four, so he'd started running across the castle the minute the class ended, not having the time to put away his books. He was balancing a pot of ink on his care of magical creatures book, praying it wouldn't fall.

'Potter', he jumped at the sound of Malfoy's voice, and then again when he found him standing right behind the door. Harry watched as the ink pot shattered and the ink soaked through Malfoy's shoes.

'POTTER!' He yelled.

Malfoy ran towards the small sofa that stood in the office and frantically took of his shoes as Harry dropped his books and everything else he was carrying on Mcgonagall's desk.

'Sorry I'm late', he said.

She frowned at her desk. 'I'll forgive you if you put your stuff away', she replied. 'And Malfoy, sit down, we'll use a spell when we're done with the session.'

'Professor, these are very expens-'

'Sit down Malfoy.'

Harry shoved another piece of parchment into his bag. He heard something snap. Quill. That was his last one. _Maybe Hermione had a spare_ , He thought as he took a seat on the chair next to Malfoy. Mcgonagall wrote something down on a piece of parchment.

'How are you boys?' She looked up and folded her hands together, creating a little table to rest her chin on.

'Brilliant.'

'Splendid.'

'Good', she smiled. 'Have either of you come up with an answer to my question?'

Harry shot a glance at Malfoy, who looked equally guilty about not doing their assignment. 'No', Harry spoke, still looking at Malfoy.

'Well, I must say I'm not surprised', she sighed. 'Luckily I hadn't planned anything for today's session. I want both of you to come up with an acceptable answer. Malfoy, let's start with you this time. What can you learn from Potter?'

Malfoy faced Mcgonagall, swallowed, before opening his mouth. 'How to be ugly.'

'I am not ugly.'

'Yes you are.'

'Says you. At least I smile sometimes, you just look like you're always in agony.'

'I am always in agony when you're around, Potter', he insisted.

'The feeling is mutual.'

The sound of the golden bell interrupted Malfoy's reply. 'Potter, I don't recall giving you permission to speak', Mcgonagall said.

Harry's eyes dropped down. 'Sorry..', he muttered.

'It'll be your turn in a minute. Now, Malfoy, I hope you understand that that is not the kind of response I'm looking for. Care to give it another try?'

Harry could practically hear Malfoy grind his teeth against each other. 'How to storm out of the great hall during dinner.'

'I left dinner one time', Harry cornered.

'Shut up', he replied. 'You're not allowed to speak.'

'Yeah, and you're supposed to give a normal answer.'

'There are no normal answers to stupid questions.'

On the other side of the desk Mcgonagall closed her eyes and massaged her eyelids with her thumbs. 'Stop talking', she groaned. She slammed her hands against the desk, making Malfoy jump up. 'Potter', she opened her eyes and smiled at him. 'What can you learn from Malfoy?'

'But he didn't even give a-'

'What can you learn from Malfoy?'

Harry took a deep breath and tried to ignore his burning desire to punch Malfoy. 'How to ruin someone's evening', he concluded, receiving an eye roll from the blond next to him and a deep sigh from Mcgonagall.

'Boys', she started. 'I thought both of you would be mature enough to do this one exercise. But apparently you aren't, so I'm going to have to give you homework', she held up her hand before either of them could protest. 'If you complain, I'll make sure it will become worth 30% of your grade in transfiguration', both of them closed their mouths.

'I want you to observe the other for the next couple of days and write down three admirable characteristics the other possesses. And I want you to hand it in on our next session on Sunday, so we can use it to determine what you can learn from each other', she said. 'Understood?'

'Understood', Harry mumbled back, while Malfoy gave a small nod. 'Can we leave now?' he asked.

'Yes, Malfoy', she sighed. 'You can leave now.'

~

Hermione's handwriting was always a mix between neatly written capital letters and words scrambled down on the bottom of the piece of parchment that you could hardly read. Usually he'd turn her way and ask her what it said every five minutes, only Hermione had retreated into the girls dormitory's. Ron however, did seem to understand her handwriting as he wrote down the last couple of words on his parchment.

'Ron what does this say?' Harry said, pointing to a word at the bottom of the paper.

'Swing', he replied.

'Brilliant, thanks. Hey what does thi-'

'I'll leave you my version, it's more readable than Hermione's', Ron stood up. 'Don't loose it though.'

Harry looked up. 'Where are you going?'

'It's two am Harry, I'm going to bed.'

'You sound like Hermione.'

Ron smiled and mumbled something before throwing Harry his parchment and strolling up the stairs. Harry did have to say Ron's handwriting was a little more readable, but some words still looked like strange symbols that he couldn't figure out.

'Is cheating an admirable characteristic?'

Harry squinted his eyes and moved the parchment closer. 'Is being a prick an admirable characteristic?' he replied.

'I don't know', said Malfoy. 'Write it down.'

Harry lowered Ron's parchment and tilted his head. Then he pulled another piece of parchment out of his bag and scrambled down the word prick in thick letters. On the other side of the common room, Malfoy was bended over a piece of parchment that seemed to have a lot more words on it.

'Show me your list', Harry spoke.

Malfoy raised his brow without looking up from the salon table. 'No. And don't tell me what to do.'

'Show me your list', he repeated. 'I can see you have things on it.'

'Wow, so those glasses do work? Shocking.'

'Show me your list.'

'No.'

And so Harry thought the only sensible thing to do was raise his wand. 'Accio list', he caught the parchment while it was still high up in the air, clutching his fist around it as Malfoy looked up in annoyance.

'That's low', he said.

Harry simply smirked. _Nothing was low enough if it pissed Malfoy off_ , He thought and folded the paper open, letting his eyes scan the list. _Attractive, funny, brave._

'You took that last one straight out of the Gryffindor textbook', he said with a click of his tongue.

'That's what you're focusing on?' Malfoy frowned.

'You think I'm attractive?'

'Pansy wrote the list.'

'Parkinson thinks I'm attractive?'

Malfoy buried his face in his hands. 'The rise of Potters ego will be the doom of all of us.'

Harry crumbled the parchment up into a little ball and threw it against Malfoy's head, who didn't even shrug. 'The savior becomes the destroyer!' Malfoy cried.

~

Mcgonagall's office was even more Gryffindor than the Gryffindor common room. She had little pictures all around the room of first years from every year, and Harry cringed at his own. There was a closet full of scarves and gloves in Gryffindor colors, accompanied by Gryffindor banners that could be used for quidditch. On the highest shelf of the closet laid a tiny golden snitch. It was smaller than the real one, and it didn't fly away. Harry balanced it on the tip of his nose as he walked around the office while Mcgonagall graded more tests.

'What is he doing here?'

Harry caught the falling snitch as he turned around on the back of feet. Malfoy stared in disbelief at the both of them, his eyes going from Harry to Mcgonagall to Harry, to the snitch in his hand, and then back to Mcgonagall.

'We have therapy session together, Malfoy', Harry replied, putting the snitch back on his nose. 'Are you really that dense?'

Malfoy clenched his teeth. 'But why are you here before me?'

'I was early.'

'You are never early.'

Harry repressed a smirk when he noticed Malfoy's face getting red. 'Does this piss you off?'

'Oh this is brilliant', he jumped on the back of his chair. 'This totally pisses you off!'

'Bugger off.'

'Professor', Harry said as he looked at Mcgonagall. 'I will never be late again.'

'Fantastic Potter', she replied uninterested, then she patted her hand on a clear space on her desk. 'Hand them in boys.'

Malfoy's handwriting was perfectly on brand. It was small, cursive, looked like it could be ripped out of an ancient piece of writing. It was one of those handwritings people would look at and widen their eyes at the consistency of the sizes of the letters and space between the words. Harry's on the other hand was small, crammed together and hardly readable, and made him want to rewrite it in a better handwriting, one that would out do Malfoy's.

'Let's start with yours Potter', Mcgonagall cleared her throat as she took a hold of his list. 'Prick, Cunning, Ambitious.'

'Those are just the main traits to be sorted into Slytherin', said Malfoy.

'Malfoy, I didn't give you permission to speak', she glared. 'Let's see if you did any better. Savior of the wizarding world, brave, cabbage personality.'

'Oh come on, leave the cabbage out of it', Harry shook his head.

'You called me a prick, that's way worse.'

'It's simply the truth.'

Before either knew what was happening, their lists were thrown against their forehead as an annoyed professor Mcgonagall started massaging the sides of her head. 'How come other people have made progress, while you boys only seem to make backwards progress?' she asked.

'Maybe it's the pairing', Harry tried.

'No Potter, that's not it. Granger and Parkinson have made progress as well, and I believed that would've been much more difficult to achieve than you lot', she replied.

She took a deep breath, and Harry felt quite bad for the overworked professor sitting in front of them. Not bad enough to actually be decent to Malfoy, though.

'Okay', she said. 'Potter, how come you hate Malfoy so much?'

Harry scoffed. 'He's a death eater.'

'Former death eater.'

'Whatever', he replied. 'Why do you hate me so much?' he swallowed.

'You're boring and annoying and I don't understand why everyone seems to be so in love with you', said Malfoy.

Mcgonagall held up her hand before Harry could respond. 'I want both of you to think about how you can get past these problems you seem to have with the other and perhaps even work towards becoming friends. Understood?'

'Yes ma'am.'

'Good. Now get out of my office before I hex the both of you.'

~

Tuesday came a little too early, and by the time it was 3:45, Harry still had no answer to McGonagall's question. He believed his professor when she said they could probably resolve all their problems if they wanted to, but the things was: he didn't. He was perfectly comfortable having Draco Malfoy as an enemy, and based on everything Malfoy had ever said to him, he was as well. At some point Mcgonagall was going to have to accept that and they'd be able to go back to a life where they weren't forced to sit in the same small room three times a month. But until then, therapy sessions occupied his afternoon. He was also set on being early again, just to piss Malfoy off, which is why the ringing of his alarm filled the boys dormitory's at 3:50.

'What the fuck?'

Harry looked up from his charms homework. On the bed in the corner of the room, a blond raised his head from his pillow, rubbing his eyes. 'What the bloody hell is that sound?'

'That would be my alarm', Harry said.

'Can you turn it off?'

'Anything for you, my dearest enemy', he grinned, pushing a couple of buttons.

Malfoy let his face fall back onto his pillow, a soft groan escaping from his lips. Harry had already shoved his homework under the covers of his bed and jumped up, heading for the stairs.

'Where are you going?' Malfoy mumbled into his pillowcase.

'Therapy', he answered and frowned at how strange that actually sounded. 'Mcgonagall.. session.. thing.. you know?'

The blond was running after him in no time, his clothes wrinkled from his bed, his hair peaking in every direction. It looked different now that it wasn't overpowered by gel. 'Could've woken me up', he snarled.

'I didn't even know you were there', Harry spoke truthfully as he opened the door, waving Hermione and Ron a goodbye. 'Besides, why would I get you out of trouble?'

'Because you're the chosen one, arsehole, and you have a savior complex.'

Harry stood on his tiptoes to look into McGonagall's office. 'She's still in another session', he said.

Malfoy's lips slightly parted as he frowned. 'We're early?'

'Yes. Didn't you see the time?'

'I just assumed you were late.'

Harry leaned against the cold wall. 'I was early, actually.'

'Why?' Malfoy snarled. 'To piss me off, I assume?'

 _Yes_. 'No. Not everything is about you, Malfoy.'

'Right, because everything is about you? Merlin', he looked up at the ceiling. 'I can't believe I have to spend my afternoons cooped up with Harry Potter.'

'Because you'd actually spend your time talking about your problems if I wasn't there?'

'Well, no bu-'

'I'm Draco Malfoy', Harry said, his impression of Malfoy even worse than the one at the lake. 'My father's in Azkaban so I have some serious daddy issues.'

Malfoy pressed his lips into a thin line as he stepped closer to Harry. 'Don't talk about my father.'

'Fine' Harry tilted his head. 'Let's talk about your issues then. I mean, how many are there, truly?', he held up his fingers to count. 'You're a coward, mean, arrogant, aggressive..', he counted.

He grinned when Malfoy moved his arm his way, pressing it against his neck.

'See?' Harry smirked. 'Aggressive.'

And in a second Malfoy jumped, moving closer, pushing him against the cold corridor wall. He was tall. So tall. Harry never really noticed that before. He felt like he was shrinking as Malfoy towered over him, his arm pressed against Harry's neck, his other holding himself up against the wall. Harry could feel his breath escaping from his lips. He could count his lashes. Malfoy had freckles. They weren't very noticeable, for they blended in perfectly with his skin tone, but he could see them now. There weren't a lot of them either, but they were definitely there.

He didn't notice Malfoy furrowed his brow until it was too late, and Harry was sure his fist was about to connect with his jaw. Instead, the sound of voices grew louder and Malfoy pushed Harry to his side in a mere second, right before the door slammed open and against Harry's face, who fell down and hit the floor.

'Oh, I'm sorry!'

A warm feeling ran down Harry's nose, over his lips, under his chin. When he moved his hand to touch his nose, it came back stained red. In the door opening stood a Ravenclaw girl. She had her hands wrapped around her mouth, staring at Harry in shock. Behind her professor Mcgonagall appeared. 'Potter!' she exclaimed.

'Hi ma'am', he said sheepishly.

She pushed the girl away softly. 'Let's get you to the hospital wing', she shook her head.

Harry looked over his shoulder as Mcgonagall helped him up. Blond locks disappeared just behind the corner of the corridor walls.


	3. three ~ october

It never occurred to Harry how small the common room really was.

But it did now that it felt like the walls were slowly creeping up on him. Now that it felt like everyone seemed to be in an agreement to leave the room, one by one, so he wouldn't notice until it was too late to do anything about it. If only they'd told him. He would've been able to go with them. He would've been able to escape the walls. Instead, he sat on a cushion on the sofa, trying to ignore the approaching walls. They were almost touching his shoulders now, squeezing the sofa's. Harry could hear his own breathing now that his fellow students had abandoned him. It was all he heard; his breathing and the scraping of the moving walls on the wooden floor. Oh, and Draco Malfoy's breathing. He seemed to be unaware of the agreement on leaving the common room as well, but he didn't seem bothered. He simply let his eyes scan the pages of whatever book he was reading. It was a different one everyday. Harry glared as Malfoy brought his index finger up to his mouth and licked it, then flipped the page. What an arsehole, He thought. Then: Had Malfoy's mouth always been so interesting? And when did the walls stop suffocating him? He hadn't given the moving brick as much as half a thought once he realized he was accompanied by a Slytherin. A book-reading, page-flicking, grinning Slytherin.

Then Hermione tapped his shoulder and the students and walls returned to their original state. Harry concluded he was losing his mind. The Slytherin was still grinning. He reminded himself to turn to Hermione a little too late and she frowned as she let her eyes travel the distance between him and Malfoy.

'Aren't you supposed to be at Mcgonagall's?' she mumbled, now biting her bottom lip, looking at him as though Harry was an astrology problem she had to solve. He didn't like it.

'Huh?'

She repeated her question. Harry still didn't pay attention. He was staring at the walls, to make sure they didn't start moving again.

'Harry!'

'Yes?'

'Mcgonagall!' It wasn't Hermione screaming anymore, it was Seamus. He was waving his hand in front of Harry's face, his lips slightly parted, his brow knitted.

'It's four?' Harry questioned.

Everyone nodded. When he turned to look for Malfoy, he only found an empty seat. He had never hated the git more than now.

'Bollocks', he whispered.

He jumped up, almost knocking over a pot of ink, then ran down the stairs, almost knocking over a couple of first years in the corridor. He could see Malfoy walking a couple of meters in front of him. Harry made sure it stayed that way.

He didn't want to see Malfoy grin again. But then again, maybe he'd imagined the grin. He'd imagined moving walls.

Malfoy disappeared into Mcgonagall's office within mere seconds, and for a moment Harry believed he'd imagined him walking down this corridor, but then he turned and entered the office and was greeted by a grin.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

'Potter', Mcgonagall made a clicking sound with her tongue. 'Right on time. Please, sit down.'

He took a seat while Malfoy didn't. As he walked past him, and their eyes met, he remember he was supposed to be angry with him. He broke his nose. He repeated it in his head, but all he could focus on was freckles. He tried to find them on his face. He was too far away.

'How is your nose, Potter?' Mcgonagall spoke.

Harry cleared his throat and pushed the thoughts concerning Malfoy and freckles aside. 'Splendid', he said.

Malfoy still hadn't taken his seat. Mcgonagall seemed to have chosen to ignore him, so Harry did too. Which was hard.

Malfoy stood in front of the only window in the office. It was big, tall, looking out over the lake. Harry didn't know what could possible be so interesting about that particular view that Malfoy had to observe it right now. He looked very interested. Way too interested than anyone should be allowed to be when it came to window views of half-frozen lakes. Malfoy licked his bottom lip and squinted his eyes. Harry had had enough, and so he turned to his professor. Mcgonagall was sorting through papers, scanning the words and lines, looking for something. Harry had a gut feeling that whatever it was wouldn't be beneficial to him.

Malfoy finally sat down, a content look painted on his face. It was cheap paint, already loose at the edges. Harry wanted to rip it off to see what was beneath.

Instead, he focused on Mcgonagall. She seemed to have found what she was looking for. Good for her, Harry thought. Most likely bad for him though.

She coughed, laid a piece of parchment in front of both of them. There were eight words written on it, followed by a lot of lines, begging Harry to write something down. He felt Malfoy turn to a statue next to him as the paint crumbled.

_If I could change the past I would:_

'Fill it in. Take the whole hour if you must.'

They sat for maybe twenty minutes without moving a muscle. Harry sometimes had to remind himself he had to breathe. Malfoy didn't seem to be very fond of the question either, which made him a little happier.

 _Everything_. That was his first thought. He'd change everything. But that wouldn't satisfy Mcgonagall. He knew he'd save people. He'd save Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Fred. He'd jump in front of every bright green spell fired at them. To save everyone who died for him. He didn't even have to think about it. Still, he waited and kept his quill laying still next to the parchment. Next to him, Malfoy was eyeing his parchment. He was sure he saw a minor eye-roll when the blond noticed his lines were as empty as his own.

Harry finally wrote something down, then quickly turned the parchment around, as if that would make the words fade and disappear. Malfoy mirrored his movements.

'Perfect', Mcgonagall smiled. She rested her chin on her folded hands. 'Now switch.'

'Excuse me?' Malfoy frowned.

'Switch the papers. Look at each other's answers. Look at each other. Recognize the other's problems. Let go of any grudges.'

It sounded way too easy when she said it like that, but they both claimed the other's parchment anyway. Malfoy's handwriting was perfect once again.

_Get rid of the ink._

He read it a couple of times. Read every word separately, then read it from right to left. It still made no sense. When he looked up from the words, he met Malfoy's eyes. Then he noticed his freckles.

'This is depressing', Malfoy nudged to Harry's parchment.

_Die sooner._

'It's the truth', he answered. 'Besides, yours is just as depressing.'

'I thought it was quite poetic.'

'It's cowardly.'

'And dying isn't?'

Harry held Malfoy's parchment high up in the air. 'I know this isn't what you really feel. You just wrote it down because it's the most acceptable answer. I know you don't really think this.'

Malfoy's eyes were cold. When did that happen? He gritted his teeth. 'You don't know me. Potter. You don't know who I am.'

'I think I have a pretty good idea.'

Harry didn't focus on Mcgonagall's speech about being vulnerable. All he could pay attention to is the tornado in his stomach, making him want to punch something. No, making him want to punch Malfoy. Harry wasn't sure where the rage had come from. He didn't get to punch the git; he left before Harry even got up from his chair.

~

Harry hadn't planned on going to Hogsmeade. He'd actually planned to avoid the little town all year. A handful of third years had planned to as well, but for different reasons. There was a rumor going around that Hogsmeade had now been infiltrated by the ghosts of the people that died in the battle of Hogwarts. Some have claimed the shrieking shack is back in business, keeping the villagers awake every single night without fail, others believe the entire town is now haunted. Harry wasn't planning on avoiding it because of those reasons though. The shrieking shack was still empty as could be, unless they found themselves amongst a brand new werewolf, and the town itself was still inhabited by living human beings. No, the reason he had no desire to visit was because of his own ghosts. No floating bodies, but those in his head. Those that would pop up whenever he noticed something in Hogwarts that hadn't been fixed properly. Like a chipped corridor or a stain of blood that seemed impossible to get out of the floor. It would take mere seconds before he felt like he was back in the battle.

Hogsmeade wasn't as lucky as Hogwarts when it came to cleaning up. Apparently the villagers had had a hard time after the battle, and the town still wasn't completely back on his feet. Which is why Harry decided not to go this year. But then Hermione's birthday came up and she, along with Ron and Neville, came up with the idea to spend her birthday during their Hogsmeade trip that October. It seemed a little rude to refuse to tag along.

Which is how he found himself trailing along his friends, with a smile he glued onto his face that morning. Hermione seemed happy though, which he guessed was what this was all supposed to be about. He scanned the group. They all looked happy. That made sense. What didn't make sense is that he wasn't. It was all over, why wasn't he happy yet? Why was he still stuck in the war?

At some point the group split up. Ginny and Luna went to buy sweets at Honeydukes, Ron and Hermione went to buy quills, which was apparently, based on Hermione's smile, very exciting. Seamus and Dean went for Butterbeer and Neville mumbled something along the lines of needing new clothes. Harry tapped him on the shoulder.

'Can I join you?' He asked.

Neville simply shrugged. 'I s'ppose, if you want to', he answered.

 _Not really,_ Harry thought, _But I would rather buy clothes with you than be a third wheel with any of the others_. Neville rambled on about how his grandmother had given him a bunch of money before he left, because according to her, Neville would never get a girlfriend if he kept walking around wearing those clothes. Harry blocked out most of it.

He had never been to Gladrags Wizardwear. It was quite a large shop, every inch of the wall plastered with sweaters, skirts, jackets and socks. A lot of socks. Who needed that many socks? Most of them weren't even nice. Just ugly, brown socks.

'They scream when they get too dirty', Neville whispered next to him.

'It'd be a small shrieking shack in my sock drawer then', Harry said.

Harry guessed it wasn't Neville's first time here when an older lady came running his way, her heels clacking on the marble floor. She had her grey hair pinned up with two pens and her eyes looked soft.

'Neville!' she exclaimed. 'We truly have missed our best costumer around here. How's grandma?'

Harry frowned as his friend got pulled to different walls. Neville shot him an apologetic look. It was fine, at least now he could sit back and stop paying attention. It wasn't Neville's fault, but Harry didn't feel like spending his afternoon judging different types of sweater vests. He did have to admit the one the lady was clutching in her hand was nice though. It was dark red, with white argyle print. Harry'd buy it. He nodded at Neville, who stared at the vest with a confused look in his eyes.

'I don't know', he said, his voice trailing off.

'It's red', Harry offered. 'That's nice. Gryffindor colors.'

'Aren't we supposed to be encouraging interhouse cooperation?'

'Fuck that', Harry said. 'I'm not going to have picknicks with the Slytherins, no matter how bad Mcgonagall wants me to.'

Neville cracked a smile. 'Maybe you should buy it', he tossed the vest Harry's way. 'Not really my style.'

Harry tossed it back. 'I'm good, thanks mate.'

Neville shrugged before the older lady pulled him away. She made him try on a bunch of clothes. Harry regretted joining him after two hours.

'Nev', he spoke.

Neville didn't even turn around. 'I'll see you later?'

'For sure.'

The sun was setting when he stepped outside. The others probably already left. He didn't blame them though, he would've done the same. He trailed past the shops and pubs, wrapping his arms around himself. He cursed himself for wanting to prove Ginny wrong when she told him he'd need a scarf. He wouldn't mind a pair of gloves either. He put his hands in the sleeves of his pocketless jacket, then continued walking as his nose and ears turned to ice. It was fine though. There hadn't been any flashbacks. He was still able to breath. Everything was fine.

Then he was in front of the shrieking shack. He didn't know why, or how, and he knew it was stupid, because it'd just remind him of Lupin. He tried pushing the memories aside and turned around, only to hit a wall. A wall that could talk. 'Bloody hell Potter.'

_Not a wall._

'Sorry', he mumbled, so quietly he could hardly hear it. He coughed as he got up, repositioning his hands in his sleeves.

'I could swear glasses were supposed to grant you vision', the wall scoffed.

Harry kicked some leaves his way. 'Bugger off.'

 _'You're_ the one who bumped into _me_.'

'Well, you were standing weirdly close to me, Malfoy', Harry tilted his head, watching as Malfoy's cheeks grew the slightest pink. Then he focused on his shoes.

'I wanted to scare you', he mumbled.

'What?'

'Because.. people say it's haunted. The shrieking shack. I thought it might make you cry, or at least scream.'

'Classy', Harry said and he pressed his lips together. He pounded his brain to think of an insult. Non came to mind.

'I'm going back', Malfoy declared, as if Harry cared. Then he said 'Me too', as if he did.

They walked for maybe ten seconds before Harry stopped and looked back at the shack.

'Merlin Potter, if you're going to bug me with your presence, at least walk a little faster.'

Harry couldn't stop a smirk from forming. 'Want to see something cool?' He asked.

'No.'

'Malfoy.'

'Fine.'

Harry had no clue why he was about to show Malfoy this, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do. His friend's were probably back in the common room already. He'd only spoil the party. The one who couldn't seem to be happy joined the ones who couldn't seem to not be.

'Oh hell no', Malfoy said as Harry climbed the fence.

'Coward', he said in a singing voice when he landed on the opposite side. He grasped the fence and stared as Malfoy looked up as if he was facing death.

'I'm not stupid Potter. If you want to kill me, do it somewhere I wont expect it.'

Harry let his head fall back and sighed. 'I'm not going to kill you. At least, not today.'

Malfoy raised one eyebrow as he approached the fence. Harry didn't know when it happened, but the freckles were back, coming out from wherever they'd been hiding. They were screaming at him to notice them, to count them. He did.

'Stare much?' Malfoy scoffed.

Harry shook his head and ripped his eyes away from Malfoy's cheeks. He had never seen Malfoy look uncomfortable before. It didn't fit.

'You have freckles', he spilled.

'I know.'

'I didn't.'

 _Flustered. Not uncomfortable_ , Harry thought. It didn't fit any better, but Harry preferred it. Then he slapped his palms on the fence. 'Malfoy.'

'No. Still not climbing', Malfoy shook his head.

'Boo!'

'Shut up.'

'Climb.'

'Shut up.'

'Climb!'

'Merlin! Shut up!' But then his feet were in the fence and he landed besides Harry, panting. His ears were red of cold, his hair messy.

'There you go!' Harry grinned.

'I said shut up', Malfoy replied, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. 'What now?'

'Now we enter', Harry said.

He turned to face the shack, then started walking. He was aware Malfoy wasn't following him, but he didn't care. He had to at some point, there was nowhere else to go.

The shack was perfectly broken and chipped and unsteady. Harry pushed open the door, ignoring Malfoy, who looked positively pissed. The corners were filled with dust, the ceilings by spiderwebs. He didn't care. He took the stairs, almost ran upstairs, then stopped in front of the entrance he knew would lead to Hogwarts.

'Potter?' Malfoy asked behind him.

'Do you trust me?' Harry replied.

'Not in the slightest.'

'Perfect.'

It seemed the Slytherin couldn't repress a gasps as Harry opened the entrance.

'It leads to death', Harry said.

Malfoy didn't even hesitate before pushing Harry down the tunnel. He gasped and turned around. 'Arsehole!'

'Where does it really lead to?' Malfoy asked, stepping next to him, then closing the entrance.

'Hogwarts.'

The light got shut out when Malfoy closed the entrance. Harry fumbled around for his wand. Malfoy was quicker. Harry hated it.

'For fucks sake Potter', he mumbled as he shone the light of his wand throughout the tunnel. 'Please don't ever take me on a tunnel date again.'

Harry frowned. Malfoy frowned.

'How about I don't take you on any dates?' Harry said, trying to save whatever this situation was.

'Yeah', Malfoy whispered. The word floated around the tunnel and hang between them, taking up the rest of the air as they continued down the tunnel.

Harry didn't even know why he was here, or why he was here with _Malfoy_. He knew it was his own fault. He also knew Malfoy had freckles. The freckles wouldn't leave him alone. He watched as Malfoy climbed the stairs leading up to the Whomping Willow. Then he watched himself as he watched Malfoy, and wondered why he didn't feel the overwhelming urge to hex him. The blond stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around. 'Do I just.. go through?' He asked.

Harry pushed past him, reached his hand through the entrance, tried to find the wood of the tree to stop it from killing the both of them, then climbed out.

'Whomping Willow?!' Malfoy exclaimed before he even hit the ground.

'Let's go before it embraces us', Harry said.

'Potter'

He turned around. Malfoy stood a few meters away, but it felt as though there was no distance between them. He felt his warmth, noticed his freckles, smelled his shampoo. Harry swallowed. 'What?’

'I think Mcgonagall would be proud of us', Malfoy said.

Harry smirked. 'I think she would.'

He dreamt of tunnel dates that night. He didn't know if they were nightmares or not.


	4. four ~ november

After the war, Draco Malfoy bought a record player.

He got it to piss of his parents, because apparently the war had provided an opportunity for him to explore his five-years-late rebel phase. It was the most muggle thing he could've bought, and he carried it around everywhere. It was highly inconvenient, but he brought it where ever he went, tucked under his arm. Just like he brought it to Hogwarts.

Now, Harry only knew this because he heard Malfoy tell Zabini that night. When he woke up, there was a record playing in the middle of the room. It was simply sitting on the floor. Seamus, Zabini and Malfoy were seated around it. Harry was sure he was watching some sort of ritual. He opened the curtains around his bed.

'What is this?'

Seamus held up his hand. 'We're using the record player.'

Harry frowned. 'No you're not. You're staring at it.'

Malfoy snapped his head Harry's way. 'Yes Potter, that's what he said. Shut up.'

Harry left the room. He'd leave it to the other half-bloods or muggle-borns to tell them that is not how you use a record player. Sunday usually meant eggs and strawberries and cinnamon rolls in the common room. There was a group of Ravenclaws who got up really early every morning to study and then returned with breakfast for everybody else, because Merlin knows eight years weren't going to get dressed properly to have breakfast on Sunday morning.

Harry slummed down next to Ron on one of the sofa's and let his teeth sink into a cinnamon roll.

'Your fellow pure-bloods are staring at a record player', he mumbled between chews.

'Staring?' Ron asked, just as invested in his breakfast as Harry.

'Staring', he confirmed. 'I don't think they know what it does.'

Ron snickered. 'Please tell me there are Slytherins involved.'

'Malfoy and Zabini. But we also lost one of our own.'

'Neville?'

'Seamus.'

'Figured.'

Harry tried his best not to focus on their plans for the day, which would most likely involve a lot of glaring, eyerolling and sighing. McGonagall had send all of them letters that Saturday, which Harry thought was quite excessive, seeing as they saw her everyday, but he respected it non the less. The letters all looked the same. Red pen, the same lines on every parchment. The only difference were their names.

_To Harry Potter,_

_I'm writing to inform you that you are expected to attend an interhouse therapy session on Sunday November 8th at 3 pm. I look forward to seeing you there._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry'd asked around and apparently not everyone had received an invitation. He knew Ron had. They'd been peacefully eating cereal when the letters were dropped in front of them. Ron almost cursed his frosted flakes into next week when he read the word interhouse. Harry didn't think it was that bad, but then again, he was used to being couped up with a Slytherin on a Sunday afternoon. Ron, however, had had the luxury of sharing his sessions with Neville, so was completely new to Slytherin infiltrated therapy sessions.

After bugging every eight year he could find, Harry's positive outlook on the session had sunk and reached the bottom, landing next to Ron's. It seemed McGonagall believed the magical solution to everyone's mental problems was to pair up Slytherins and Gryffindors like they were peanut butter and jelly. Harry'd only been sitting in the office for forty seconds when the first eyeroll, caused by Zabini, performed by Ron, took place. Then Malfoy glared at Ron, then at Harry ( _I didn't even do anything, bloody hell_ , Harry thought), and finally a sigh escaped from McGonagall's lips. They were off to a perfect start.

McGonagall cleared her throat. 'Let me begin this session by stating I'm very glad all of you showed up', she looked around the room, which was clearly divided.

Harry'd taken place next to Hermione, who sat next to Ron, who sat next to Neville, on the sofa in front of the only window in the office. Seamus and Dean were seated on McGonagall's desk. Harry decided not to ask questions, McGonagall had claimed the big leather chair anyway. Parkinson, Zabini and Malfoy were seated on the floor next to the door. Parkinson was resting her head on her hands and looked like she might fall asleep at anytime. Zabini was scanning the crowd, a mixture of excitement and disgust in his eyes. Next to him Malfoy was simply leaning against the wall, looking bored out of his mind, glaring at Harry every so often. He hadn't even done anything yet and the git was already pissing him off. Or maybe Harry was already pissing him off. Whatever, it was the same thing anyway.

'It's come to my attention that a handful of you have yet to make progress', Harry swore she looked at him and Malfoy. 'I thought a bigger group of students might make it easier for those students to put aside their differences', okay, she was definitely looking at him and Malfoy.

'I want to start the session by giving all of you the opportunity to share anything that might've happened to you this week', she paused, waiting for someone to stand up. _Good luck with that_ , Harry thought, but then Hermione got up from the sofa. Harry watched as she looked around the room.

'Well, I was quite anxious about going back to Hogsmeade', she fumbled with her bracelet.

'Because of the ghosts?' Dean offered.

She chuckled. 'No Dean, not because of the ghosts. I was just... scared, you know? We hadn't been there in a while, and I wasn't sure how noticeable the consequences of the war were over there. But I went anyway and it turned out to be fine. Everything you're scared of usually turns out to be fine, I think', she bit her lip, then smiled softly. 'Oh, and they have a new butterbeer recipe. It's magnificent.'

Harry focused on his fellow students and he noticed non of them were confused. Nobody, except for him and Malfoy. _Is this what you're supposed to do during these sessions?_ He thought _. Is this what they've all been doing?_ Malfoy looked away from Hermione and met his eyes. Both were too confused to shoot nasty glances.

Then Neville got up and shared something about his grandmother, to which Harry hardly payed attention. Everyone seemed to understand what they were doing. Not him though. And he wasn't particularly looking forward to sharing his own thoughts. _Oh yeah, no, sometimes I wake up thinking we're still at war. Yeah. Anyway, want to get some dinner?_ No thanks. McGonagall stared at him from across the room. Everyone had said something, leaving only Harry and Malfoy. For once, Harry was glad the Slytherin was in the same room as him as he stood up and swallowed.

'Malfoy', McGonagall smiled contently. 'Please, share your thoughts.'

Malfoy looked her way. 'You want to know my thoughts?'

McGonagall nodded and Malfoy grinned. Harry knew what that grin meant. _Bloody hell_ , he thought.

'I think this is bloody stupid. Non of us care if we go to Hogsmeade or not, neither do we care about Neville's grandmother', he turned Neville's way. 'She's been alive since forever too, what's that all about? Anyway, this is useless and I'm not going to tell this dense group of Gryffindors my problems. Fucking wasted my time today. Pathetic.'

Hermione gasped. She actually _gasped_ , like Malfoy wouldn't ruin this session one way or another. But McGonagall simply kept the smile plastered on her face. And then she turned to Harry, and he wanted to sink through the floor. He could try to blend into the carpet, or maybe hide under the desk. Seamus' and Dean's feet would cover him. Nobody would notice. Except for he wasn't under the desk and everyone definitely noticed him as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. McGonagall looked at him like he was supposed to be doing something. Maybe he was. He probably was. He was supposed to say something. To share. A voice filled the room, but it wasn't his.

'I have something else I want to share.'

Malfoy stood in the middle of the group, looking McGonagall straight in the eyes. Everyone stared at him, waiting for him to insult someone. He didn't.

'I went to the shrieking shack', he said. Harry slapped himself for thinking Malfoy was actually about to help him. Of course he wasn't.

'Why would you do that?' Parkinson lifted her head from her hands.

'It was a date.'

Zabini frowned behind him. 'Yeah, okay, that's a little too unbelievable.'

'I went on a tunnel date', Malfoy insisted and Harry wanted to hide under the desk once again, but first he wanted to kill Malfoy.

'That sounds nice', McGonagall tried, looking just as uncomfortable as everyone else who never asked Malfoy to start talking about any dates he went on. _Wait no,_ Harry thought. _It wasn't a date._

'No', Malfoy said. ‘It wasn’t’, nobody said anything, so Harry did.

'I think we should all go back to our common room. Merlin knows we have a lot of homework.'

He received a lot of nods and confirming murmurs and so McGonagall let them go. Harry pretended not to notice the strange stare Malfoy was giving him as they all walked back.

~

The record player trio still hadn't figured out how it worked.

With the amount of homework and essays their professors were giving them, their daily staring ritual was the only thing that still brought Harry joy, so he stayed quiet about it. His favorite moments were when it was just Malfoy staring at the record player. He'd sometimes whisper things, spells, then sometimes started talking to it. Things like _'What do you do, strange box?'_ and _'Work your muggle magic, please.'_ Harry grinned as he heard someone kick the thing. Judging by the light shining through the curtains around his bed, it was morning. Judging by the lack of sounds in the dormitory, Malfoy was the only one there. He heard another kicking sound and then a groan. Then he heard music. Harry got out of under the covers and crawled to the end of bed. He slowly opened the bed curtains and was greeted by Malfoy sitting on the floor, smiling at the record player.

'You knew?!' Harry's eyes widened.

Malfoy didn't look up from the record player. 'Of course I knew. I'm not dense like you.'

'But..'

'It's quite amusing to see Blaise lose his mind over it.'

Harry jumped up from his bed and sat down opposite from Malfoy. He didn't know what music it was playing. Something classical.

'Out of all the music you could chose, this is what you buy?'

'Bugger off Potter.'

'Where's everyone else?'

'Breakfast.'

'I hate this song.'

Malfoy looked up from the floor. And just like that, they were back. _Freckles_. Malfoy was back to focusing on the record player, but Harry couldn't seem to look away from his cheeks. It was just so frustrating. There was no reason why Malfoy should even have freckles. It made no sense, and Harry'd never seen them before, which also made no sense. It was like they appeared from out of nowhere, pestering Harry with their presence. They were screaming and smirking and daring and Harry wanted to slap them off Malfoy's cheeks. He quickly stood up before he did. He ran past him, down the stairs. He had to find something else to think about. Something other than freckles.

Christmas.

Christmas was approaching and with it the pounding question where he'd spend it. As much as he loved the Weasley's, he had no desire to be a fifth wheel to Hermione and Ron and Luna and Ginny. He wasn't sure who else would come to the Burrow and he didn't want to risk the awkwardness. But then again, where else would he go? He could ask Neville if he could join him. Neville would probably say yes, but the idea of spending Christmas with Neville and his grandma seemed even worse than being the designated single at the Burrow. Then there was the option of staying at Hogwarts. It wasn't a perfect option; he was an eight year, and as far as he knew, non of his fellow eight years were planning on staying at Hogwarts. But he believed he could manage two weeks alone. He still possessed the marauders map, so he could learn every secret passage within Hogwarts, something he'd been wanting to do since he got his hands on the magical parchment. Hogwarts would've seemed like the perfect options, if he hadn't been haunted by ghosts. It seemed his war flashbacks had no intention of stopping. Harry knew being alone for two weeks in the castle would provide him with a lot more of those moments than he'd like. Hopefully he'd find a solution by then. He had about one week.

Ron and Hermione really wanted him to come to the Burrow though. Hermione was listing all the reasons he should join them while Ron was rambling about how much Mrs. Weasley wanted to see him again. Harry simply let their pleads flow past him as he spread some peanut butter on his toast.

'Seriously mate, my mum has been asking about you in every letter she's send.'

'Mhm.'

'You can't possibly stay at school by yourself Harry!'

'Sure 'mione.'

'I think my mum might love you more than her own children.'

'Erm-'

'Ginny and Luna are coming too!' _Fifth-wheel._

Ginny turned around. 'I heard my name.'

'Hermione said you and Luna are spending Christmas at the Burrow', Ron said.

Hermione sighed. 'Harry isn't sure if he'll come this year.'

'That's fair', Ginny shrugged. 'I mean, no offence Harry, but you're kind of single, while we.. aren't.'

'That's not relevant!' Hermione exclaimed.

'It might be to him', Ginny replied. 'Besides, he won't be the only one staying at school.'

Harry turned her way, an eyebrow raised, swallowing a piece of toast. 'I won't?'

'The Slytherin trio isn't going home either. Apparently former death eater families are messy business.'

 _Perfect_ , He thought _. Now I can't stay at Hogwarts either._

But then again, maybe now it wouldn't be so strange if he stayed at school. He guessed a bunch of Slytherins were going to be staying behind; he'd simply blend in with all the other students. It wasn't like he had a family to return to anyway. Besides, if he was constantly kept busy with schoolwork and arguing with green-tie-wearers, he might be so lucky to not get any flashbacks.

'I'm staying here.'

Hermione almost jumped up. 'No you're not!'

'Yes I am?' he frowned.

She folded her arms 'I won't allow you.'

'I'm staying here Hermione', he stood up. 'Let's just drop it and get to class.'

Hermione looked like she'd rather drop dead than drop it.

~

Christmas might bring him many gifts, but all Harry was really looking forward too was being freed from his mandatory therapy sessions with Malfoy.

It seemed the git had noticed Harry would always arrive early, so for the past couple of sessions, the Slytherins would leave twenty minutes early to beat him. Harry'd tried to arrive thirty minutes early, but had given up when the corridors started getting cold and windy after ten minutes. Then he stopped arriving ten minutes early, and that's when it all went downhill when it came to his time schedule. Which is how he found himself knocking at McGonagall's office door ten minutes late. Malfoy looked incredibly proud of himself, McGonagall simply looked worn out. _One session_ , Harry thought. _One last session and then you'll be a free man for two whole weeks_. He forced a smile as he looked at McGonagall and took a seat, then directed Malfoy his middle finger under the desk.

'You're too sweet', Malfoy said with a sugar-coated smile.

'Boy's', McGonagall spoke. Harry believed they might be the reason McGonagall looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown and a burnout, but he shoved that thought aside as she continued talking.

'I've come to the conclusion neither of you are going to make any progress, no matter how hard I try.'

'Took you long enough', Malfoy murmured. Harry kicked him under the desk.

'That is why I've decided to not continue our sessions after Christmas. Now, are both of you okay with that?'

Harry felt like he'd just gotten released from a prison cell. 'Brilliant!'

'Yeah', Malfoy said. 'What Potter said.'

Harry couldn't possibly ignore the tone of his voice, or the way he was slumped in his chair. He turned his head, only to find Malfoy staring right at his shoes. Why wasn't he jumping with glee? Harry was, in his head. Malfoy simply sat there, his lips pressed together, his feet twirled around each other. Harry frowned at him to get his attention. Usually the blond noticed his stares or frowns or glares. Just like Harry noticed his. It was like some alarm went off in his brain when Malfoy wanted his attention, and the same thing happened to Malfoy. Or, at least, he thought it did. But he stayed staring at his shoes, completely ignoring Harry.

'Then I'll let both of you return to your common room. If you do ever need someone to confide in, my office is a neutral territory', Harry thought that was a little difficult to believe due to the intense Gryffindor propaganda in the room, but he brushed it off.

'Alright', he simply said. He got up, still frowning at Malfoy, who, in turn, was still either ignoring him or completely oblivious to his stares. Then he stood up as well and finally met Harry's eyes, only to return the most confusing stare Harry had ever seen. Harry couldn't find the usual hatred or disgust, or even annoyance, no matter how hard he tried. Malfoy pushed past him, rushing out the door. Harry mumbled a quick goodbye to the headmaster before following him.

'Hey! What the fuck is your problem?'

Malfoy turned around, too far for Harry to see if the hatred had returned. 'Leave me alone Potter.'

'What was that?' They should probably stop screaming and simply walk a little closer to talk in a normal volume, but neither of them did so.

'I said leave me alone.'

'Why were you acting so weird in there?'

'It's non of your business.'

'Stop being such a pussy and just spit it out already.'

'For Merlins sake Potter, do you ever shut up? I don't want to talk to you! Please, for once in your life, leave me alone!' He threw his hands in the air and turned around.

Harry didn't know why he felt a pang in his chest.


	5. five ~ december

The week leading up to winter break went by in a blur, with a lot of unfinished essays, pleads from Hermione to join them for the holidays and free afternoons now that he wasn't expected to be at his mandatory therapy sessions.

It was the last Sunday before the majority of the eight year students would go home and Harry was sitting in front of the hearth, trying to finish his potions essay in the hope Slughorn would accept it, even if it was most likely trash and two days late. He seemed to be one of the only students still doing school related work, but that didn't surprise him; he was born a procrastinator. His parchment was filled with two different handwritings; one his, one Hermione's. She'd helped him with the opening paragraph, but after, she'd left him to figure it out for himself. For a single second Harry thought she resurfaced to save him from the hell that was his essay, but when he looked to his right to see who took a seat next to him he didn't find Hermione's usual curls. Instead he found sleek black hair and a face he knew as Pansy Parkinson.

'Occupied', he said, frowning.

'How welcoming', she bit a smile. 'I heard you're staying at Hogwarts for the holidays.'

'I am.'

'I assume you're already aware Draco, Blaise and I will be staying at school too?'

'I am', he replied. 'Why?'

She leaned back on the sofa, kicking of her slippers and resting her feet on the small salon table in front of them. 'I thought I'd be, or try to be, a nice person and invite you to our small Christmas gathering on Christmas eve', she laid her head on the back of the sofa.

'Erm.. thanks?' Harry desperately wanted her to leave. He had no interest in joining three former death eaters during what were supposed to be the jolliest days of the year. He had only been free of Malfoy for a week, he didn't want to see him for at least two years, maybe three.

'Yes yes', she sighed. 'I know; we're Slytherins. We're evil and we'll poison your eggnog and steal your presents. We're the grinch in human form. But, nonetheless, I am a firm believer in the so called Christmas spirit, and I will not let someone be alone during Christmas.'

'Isn't the grinch a muggle thing?' Harry merely asked.

She grinned and turned her head his way. 'I'll have you know all three of us have been doing a lot of research on muggle ways after the war. We're experts now. Or well, me and Draco are. Blaise is a different story.'

He recalled Zabini's confusion about the record player and forced a smile, then returned his attention to his essay, hoping Parkinson would take the hint and leave him alone. There was no way in hell he'd be joining _them_ for Christmas. He'd rather write a thousand potions essays, redo the entire war and fight Voldemort again.

Parkinson was definitely not dumb, so the hint got through. 'We're not all bad, Potter', she murmured as she got up from her seat. 'I mean, I know Draco is your mortal enemy and that makes me and Blaise the two annoying side kicks of the villain, but we're more than that. I promise we won't hex you on Christmas eve. And if you do decide to show up, nobody'll force you to say a word to Draco, trust me', Harry found it hard to trust a Slytherin.

'It starts at seven, but people always arrive late. You can arrive early though, if you don't want to make a big entrance, but I will say avoiding Draco will be a bit more difficult if you do that. Anyway, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry. _Fuck_ , Hermione told me to stop saying sorry so often. She's convinced women are programmed to say sorry for things they don't have to be sorry for, so she's always up my ass about apologizing too much. I believe she's right. Sorry, you don't care. Shit, I did it again-'

'Parkinson.'

'Yes, yes, sorry. Seven pm, Slytherin common room. I promise you won't burst into flames if you enter', she bit her lip. 'Okay, well, I'll see you there then, maybe. Probably not. Good luck with whatever you were doing', and just like that, she was gone.

Harry had only processed half of the things she had just said, and he decided his potions essay would have to wait a little while he made a mental list of information he'd obtained through Parkinson's rambling.

_1) Hermione and Parkinson were friends. Or, friendly. Maybe that happened during their sessions. McGonagall had mentioned that they were doing far better than him and Malfoy._

_2) There was a Slytherin Christmas party happening on Christmas eve and he had been invited._

_3) Malfoy_

His thoughts trailed of at the third point. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to note about Malfoy and so he erased his the third point. Harry knew one thing though; _there was no way he was going to the Slytherin Christmas party._

~

It was Christmas eve and Harry was pressed against a cold wall somewhere in the back of the Slytherin common room.

He had most definitely, completely, entirely, utterly, 100 percent been ambushed. His morning had started of rather boring, since his friends all went home for Christmas. He had, however, become used to the quiet, slow mornings and had spend most of his breakfast studying to Marauders map, trying to figure out how all the secret passageways worked and where they found themselves. It was a perfectly ordinary morning. That was until two villain sidekicks joined his table. Zabini with a grin that made Harry's stomach sink to his feet for multiple reason (which he did not want to address), Parkinson with a soft expression on her face that cancelled out Zabini's smiles.

'Enjoying a luxurious breakfast now, are we?' Zabini flashed his teeth.

Harry looked down at his lucky charms. 'Erm..'

'Ignore him', Parkinson smiled and waved her hand in front of Zabini's face. 'We're just making sure you'll be there tonight.'

So, apparently, Parkinson had not gotten the hint last time. That left him with only one option; _be incredibly blunt._

'I will not.'

'Potter, you have to come!' Parkinson exclaimed and Harry felt as though he was talking to Hermione.

'Listen mate', Zabini started.

'Not your mate.'

'You're going to come to our party, because I've told a couple of Ravenclaws you'll be there and there most likely kill me if you won't. They're Ravenclaws, they could probably get away with murder.'

Parkinson nodded. 'Two murders, even.'

'I'm not coming', Harry persisted.

'Potter', Zabini leaned over the table, knocking over a glass of orange juice in the process. 'You're coming to this party. _Pansy_ over here won't shut up about Christmas spirit, _I_ would rather not have a group of angry Ravenclaw hunting me and _Draco_ has been incredibly down for no reason the past weeks and I have a feeling a good old argument is the only thing that could possibly brighten his days. So I will say it again, and it's not up for discussion, you are coming to our party.'

Harry pushed him back into his seat and picked up the knocked over glass that was now empty. 'I'm not coming to your party', he said before taking one last bite of cereal. He threw up two middle fingers and walked out of the great hall without gifting either of them another look.

Then they found him in the library and Parkinson presented an entire speech about Christmas spirit while Zabini resorted to threatening him with murder if he didn't show up.

After that, they bugged him in the common room, and even when he hid in the Gryffindor common room, they stayed waiting outside the portrait.

'Potter!' Zabini yelled. 'You have no choice! You have to come!'

'We have hot chocolate with peppermint!' Parkinson added, trying to be the good cop to Zabini's bad cop.

Parkinson continued to list all the foods they had acquired for the party, and after what felt like twenty hours, Harry couldn't take it anymore. He stormed out of the portrait whole, his entire face red with anger.

'Fine!' He yelled. 'One hour, and then I'm gone!'

'Oh, well, if you really want to...', Zabini grinned. Harry cursed both of them.

But, after all, they'd won, and he still found himself in the green and silver common room. Harry hadn't quite expected the amount of people that had come to the party. He knew a bunch of Slytherins had stayed at school for the holidays, but he wasn't expecting all of them to be at the party. Adding to that, there were even some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He was the only Gryffindor though. Someone had pushed a plastic cup in his hand a while ago and he was silently sipping the bright pink liquid as he watched the crowd. Someone (he guessed it was Malfoy) had enchanted the record player to only play Christmas music and everyone was loudly singing along to the songs. Harry took another gulp of the drink. Parkinson and Zabini stood in the middle of the room, hands in the air, hips swinging. Malfoy was nowhere to be found, which Harry was glad for. _Only twenty more minutes_ , He thought. Then a sixth year came up to him and started talking about the war and he couldn't possibly stay there any longer.

He took the first stairs he found and opened the first door he saw. It was dark inside, but he found a soft surface to sit on and guessed it was either the girls or the boys dormitories. He tried to drown out the soft sound of Christmas music, then threw his half-full cup onto the ground when it didn't work.

'What the fuck?!'

Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds when someone murmured a _lumos_ and the light filled the room. _Boys dormitories_ , He thought when he saw the clothes lying around. In front of him sat the one person he'd been trying to avoid all day. Draco Malfoy looked _pissed_. He was seated in a big armchair across the bed Harry was seated on, a book laid open on his lap. His hair was messy, his white shirt half buttoned with a sparkling red bowtie tied around his neck. It was a strange sight seeing Malfoy in something that wasn't green. However, it were the pink stains on his shirt Harry was more focused on. They were most definitely caused by him.

'Potter', Malfoy said, his eyes cold. 'What the fuck are you doing here?'

'I was invited', Harry sighed. He was too tired to deal with Malfoy; he'd been dealing with the other two Slytherins all day.

'Well, consider yourself uninvited.'

'I don't think you're in a position to do that, considering you're not even at the party.'

Malfoy picked up Harry's cup and threw it his way, the left over drink staining Harry's Christmas sweater. 'Prick', he murmured.

'You should go, Potter.'

'I was just about to.'

It seemed Malfoy's freckles liked to show up at the worst possible times. It was as though someone had shined a spotlight on them and suddenly they were all he could focus on. Little dots on his cheeks and nose. Harry fucking hated them. Just like Harry hated the way Malfoy pulled of red really well and the way his sleeves were slightly rolled up and the way he couldn't stop staring at him. He forced himself to look away from, well, _everything_ , and got up. He didn't trust himself to glare once more, something he usually did do, so he just ran (tumbled) down the stairs.

Parkinson was right there to catch him. Literally, he fell into her arms.

'Potter!' She exclaimed, the smell of alcohol escaping from her lips. 'There you are! Have you danced yet? You have to dance!'

'I'm goo-'

'Blaise!' She hollered. 'Tell him he has to dance! Tell him he has to dance!'

They'd switched the Christmas music for normal music as the crowd bounced along to _Mr. Brightside_. Zabini's grinning face appeared from the side of the staircase and without warning, both Slytherins dragged him onto the self-made dance floor. People pushed against him on his left, arms raised his arms on his right.

'Bloody hell, Potter. Dance!' Zabini yelled into his ear.

Harry looked around as his fellow students jumped up and down, their voices filling the room.

'I just can't look, it's killing me!'

It wasn't like one dance in the Slytherin common room was going to kill him. Besides, he liked the song.

'Hell yes!' Zabini smiled broadly. Parkinson yelled something else, but Harry was too focussed on everything else to pay attention. He grinned back at both of them as they danced around the common room, in sync with the other dancing students, bumping against the once who weren't dancing.

'Merry fucking Christmas!' Zabini yelled and Harry laughed.

From where he was standing, he had a perfect view of the staircase to the boys dormitories. And as he was dancing, being pressed against others and singing along as loudly as he possibly could, he saw blond locks appear. Malfoy leaned against the wall of the staircase, scanning the crowd. In a second his eyes focused on Harry and he flashed him a smile. Not even a quick smile. No, a lingering one. One that took up all the space in the room, that made him feel like he wasn't touching solid ground anymore. One that Harry knew wasn't going to leave him alone after tonight. Harry smiled back before he could even think about it. He didn't care for the people bumping against him anymore, the people screaming song lyrics in his ears. His eyes followed as Malfoy licked his bottom lip, then turned around and disappeared again.

Harry wanted to melted into the carpet once again, but for different reasons this time.


	6. six ~ december

So apparently, the Slytherin common room didn't have any curtains.

Harry finally understood why they were always on time for classes. He guessed it was somewhere around 8 am when the bright sun brutally woke him. He buried his face in one of the cushions on the sofa, before slowly moving Pansy's head from his chest to the sofa. She and Blaise (who was draped, yes, _draped_ , over the back of the sofa, snoring like it paid him millions) were the only two still in the common room, along with him. It seemed the rest of the students had found their way to their own bed that night. Harry didn't really remember a lot of the night before, just that at some point he had introduced Blaise to One Direction music and he hadn't stopped blasting it after. Turned out, Pansy was right; Slytherin Christmas Eve parties weren't as bad as they were made out to be.

Harry yawned and ran his hand through his hair, got up, tumbled to the left over food from the night before and stuffed his mouth with half-eaten Christmas cookies. _Merry Christmas_ , He thought. _Healthy Breakfast. Mrs. Weasley must be incredibly proud of you._ He turned around at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Malfoy appeared in sweatpants and a Christmas sweater. He stopped walking the minute he noticed Harry.

'Erm.. good morning', Harry mumbled as he chewed another cookie.

Malfoy frowned at him. Then it came flooding back; _the fucking smile_. Harry knew he was overreacting. It was just a smile, and he was so pressed against other people that it could've been directed to anyone else. It could've been a smile meant for Pansy or Blaise, which seemed much more likely. But still, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about since it happened. It was a deadly duo; smiles and freckles. Luckily, the freckles stayed hidden for now.

Malfoy shook his head as Harry took another bite of his cookie. 'Pathetic..', he mumbled. Harry was glad Malfoy decided to talk. It made it easier to forget about the smile. Easier to forget about the freckles. Talking Malfoy was insufferable; Harry loved it. Then talking Malfoy said something sort of nice, and Harry wished he'd shut up already

'Merry Christmas.'

'Erm.. yeah', Harry said. 'You too. Nice sweater.'

Malfoy looks down at his Christmas sweater. It was bright red with a reindeer. His eyes slowly shifted Harry's way, who, in turn, looked down at his own sweater. Bright green with a reindeer.

'That's... strange', Harry swallowed.

'Draco!' Pansy's voice sounded from the sofa. 'Be nice to our guest, will you?'

'I will shower him with honey and bathe him in cotton candy', Malfoy faked a smile. He grabbed a cookie from the table and walked away, slamming the door so hard Harry thought the walls might fall down.

'Sorry Harry', Pansy yawned. 'I'm afraid the both of you will forever be enemies.'

Harry shrugged as he took a plate of cookies with him to the sofa and sat down next to Pansy, careful not to wake up Blaise. 'I'm completely fine with that, actually. And, you just apologized for something you don't have to apologize for.'

Pansy gasped and brought her hand over her mouth. 'Oh Merlin', she sighed. 'Please forgive me Hermione...'

'I didn't even know you and Hermione were friends.'

She grabbed a cookie. 'Well, I don't know if she'd describe us as friends. We're not as close as you lot are, but those sessions with McGonagall really did help us put aside our differences.'

Harry thought that was quite ironic, seeing as Hermione and Pansy were actually creepily alike.

'I heard you and Draco weren't as lucky', she said, her voice curious.

'Who told you that?'

'Draco.'

'Of course', he leaned back. 'Well, it's all his fault. He's a fucking prick during sessions. Or, well, I guess he's always a prick.'

'Don't you guys ever get tired of hating each other?'

Harry frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean, you're constantly arguing with each other. Hell, most of the time you go out of your way to argue with the other. It seems exhausting. Why not just get over it and be friendly?'

'I would rather die than be friendly to Draco Malfoy.'

'Oi!' She said. 'That's my friend!'

Harry simply shrugged. 'It's the truth, take it or leave it.'

~

New year's eve was the most uneventful night of Harry's life.

He spend his last couple of hours in December on one of the sofa's in the eight year common room, staring at the flames in the hearth while he waited for his tea to cool down. Though he had been invited by Pansy and Blaise to join them for champagne at the lake, they'd warned him Malfoy would also be there. No amount of champagne could outweigh the torture that was Draco Malfoy.

The common room was completely empty. Harry had quietly sang Christmas songs for a while, then made tea, played chess against himself, made more tea, dusted all the books the Ravenclaws had gathered on their bookshelves, then made tea again. It was 10:30 pm when he feel asleep in front of the fireplace, a blanket draped over his legs, his head sunken into the cushions.

It didn't matter much to him. His dreams were much more interesting than reality at that moment. His dreams, however, were also highly unrealistic and incredibly confusing. He'd had the same type of dream almost every night ever since Hogsmeade. They went by in a blur and when he woke up all he could remember was Malfoy's freckles and moonlight. It was very annoying that the git even bothered him in his dreams. But Harry still preferred his dreams during times like these, when the only somewhat interesting aspect of reality was the different types of tea the Hufflepuffs had stored in the common room.

His dream was fuzzy again. Malfoy was in it, and there were record players. And frowns. _Wait, no,_ Malfoy never frowned at him in dreams. Only the blond was seated across from him and clearly frowning. Harry crawled up from the sofa in a fraction of a second.

'Are you truly sleeping during new year's?' Malfoy scoffed.

Dream-Malfoy and reality-Malfoy were two very different people. One made Harry want to be near him at all times, one made him want to punch him until he couldn't talk anymore.

'Bloody fantastic', Harry groaned. 'Just what I want to see during my first few seconds in this new year; Draco Malfoy.'

Malfoy smirked. 'I'm flattered, love.'

 _Oh_ , Harry thought. _Oh, he is very drunk._

'Have you had champagne yet, Potter?' Malfoy asked. He slurred his words and said Harry's name very slowly.

Harry swallowed and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. 'No.'

'It reminds me of gold. You're the golden boy, so you should have some.'

'I think you should go back to your friends.'

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. 'Aren't they your friends now?'

'We're friendly. There's a difference.'

'Not to them. They would trade me for you in a heartbeat.'

It seemed drunk-Malfoy was very honest and, unexpectedly, a strange combination of dream-Malfoy and reality-Malfoy, which made Harry want to do things that made him very, very confused.

'No they wouldn't', he replied.

'Yes they would. You're the chooooosen one!' he threw his arms up in the air.

‘Bloody hell Malfoy', Harry sighed. 'Just go back outside.'

Malfoy frowned and Harry realized he wasn't going to do anything he wanted him to, just to piss him off, because it seemed drunk-Malfoy enjoyed that even more than sober-Malfoy.

Harry swallowed as he tried not to look at Malfoy. _Flames are very interesting_ , He thought, focusing on the fireplace. _Much more interesting than Draco Malfoy in a suit._

'Potter, you know you can look at me right? You won't turn to stone.'

'You're so full of yourself Malfoy.'

'Yes, that's what makes me so alluring.'

He decided he hated drunk-Malfoy.

He hated him even more when he got up and took a seat next to Harry. Or maybe Harry asked him to sit next to him. He wasn't quite sure, but either way, it had the same result. Draco Malfoy practically laying on the couch, his feet resting on the salon table, with a Gryffindor next to him that was desperately trying to think of anything other than him.

'Oh no', Harry turned to look his way, his eyes widening as he listened to Malfoy's breathing. 'Do not tell me you just fell asleep.'

He could've killed him right there. 'For Merlins sake, you are exhausting.'

It was a little easier to talk to Malfoy when he wasn't capable of arguing back.

'Okay', Harry said. 'Well, sleeping-Malfoy, nice to finally meet you. I must say you are my favorite type of Malfoy. Very quiet, drunk-Malfoy could learn something from you', he rested his head on the back of the sofa. 'Oh, and if you happen to see reality-Malfoy, you can teach him how to be tolerable.'

'Hey!' Harry said. 'That's not fair! Put those freckles away, they make you look nicer. It's such a façade', he sighed, looking down at Malfoy, who's head was now slowly falling off the cushion.

'Listen Malfoy, I still hate you as much as I did the previous years. Maybe even more. But, whatever you've been doing those past few weeks has been a real threat to my hatred for you. It's really frustrating', he looked up at the ceiling. McGonagall would probably be quite proud of them for not arguing. (She didn't have to know one of them wasn't really present in the conversation.)

'Oh wow', he spoke. 'You didn't put any gel in your hair today. It looks a tad better like this. That was not a compliment, by the way', he paused. 'Oh, who cares, you're asleep.'

Harry flinched as Malfoy's shoulder brushed his. He was so focused on Malfoy's hair he didn't realize his head slowly dropping down. Not until it fell onto Harry's shoulder, his hair brushing his jaw. _No_ , Harry thought. _I'm not doing this. I'm leaving._

But he didn't.

He had no clue why not. Sitting on a sofa with Draco Malfoy while he rested his head on his shoulder wasn't exactly an item on his bucket list. But still, he didn't mind. And he hated that he didn't mind. He hated that he actually felt comfortable being so close to him. He hated how good Malfoy looked in a suit and how soft his hair was and his _freckles_. He hated his freckles so much. Still, non of this was enough to leave, because Malfoy's touch was actually very calming. Because his head fit perfectly in the crook of Harry's neck and their hands were so close that one move would connect them. Because Malfoy smelled of peppermint and apples and champagne and everything that made Harry's heart jump up and down and do a million cartwheels. Because Harry was so close to him that he never wanted to be separated again.

Then the fear came rushing in like a flood, driving a wedge between the two boys on the sofa, and Harry jumped up while holding his breath. There were so many reason's he wanted to stay on that sofa, but all of those made him want to leave and never come back as well.

He chose the latter. What else was he supposed to do? When it came to Draco Malfoy, he had always chosen the latter.

~

Harry wasn't stupid.

Or, well, he could be, sometimes, but not always. See, after spending almost eight years at Hogwarts, which was home to some very pretty people, he had noticed that his heart fluttered the same way when he saw Cedric and when he saw Cho. He had also taken into account that he was just as open to the idea of kissing Ginny as kissing he was to the idea of kissing Blaise. And, because he was not stupid, he had come to the conclusion that he, maybe, perhaps, might like both genders.

He had this revelation about himself during his sixth year, but he found that quite an inappropriate time to tell.. anyone. So it went by unnoticed and unspoken. After the war he believed (or, decided) he didn't actually have to tell anyone. He didn't fancy anyone at that point, so it would be fairly useless to come out (in his opinion.)

As he rolled over in his bed, and the blond a couple beds further did the exact same thing, it came to him that there might be a reason to tell someone now. But that reason was, in his humble opinion, a very, very bad reason. Harry did not fancy Draco Malfoy. But he also wasn't stupid and he did realize that if he would've thought about anyone else as much as he had thought about Malfoy in the past hour, he would definitely say he fancied said person. But now said person was Draco Malfoy, and he could not like Draco Malfoy. Partly because Malfoy was a bully, death eater and just simply annoying, but also because he was Harry Potter. Harry Potter was not supposed to like Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter could kiss anyone he wanted, except for Draco Malfoy. Just his luck that the only person Harry Potter wanted to kiss at that moment was Draco Malfoy. _Alright_ , Harry thought. _I need to make a list._

_1) A couple of hours ago he was seated on a sofa with Draco Malfoy while in a position that some people might call cuddling. (He might've been playing with Malfoy's hair, but it seemed his brain had blocked out most evidence of that.)_

_2) He wanted nothing more but to wind back time and reposition himself in that position that might be called cuddling, but only if it was with Malfoy._

_3) He had been dreaming about Malfoy. Nothing really happened in these dreams, but they couldn't be ignored._

_4) Malfoy was a death eater and absolutely hated him. Not to mention that Harry hated him just as much. They wouldn't work. Besides, Malfoy would never like Harry the way Harry (might) like him. As far as he knew, Draco Malfoy was the straightest person at Hogwarts._

As it turned out, lists did absolutely nothing but confuse him even more. He sighed, slightly raised his head from his pillow and watched the blond locks at the other side of the room. _Okay_ , He thought. _I might fancy Draco Malfoy a tiny bit, but he hates me and I still hate him, so there's nothing to worry about_. He let his head fall back onto his pillow. There's nothing to worry about, he repeated. He forced himself to stop thinking about the Slytherin as he tumbled into a light sleep and ran through tunnels in his dreams.

~

For the first time in years, Harry was looking forward to classes. It was probably the only thing that could distract him from Malfoy.

It wasn't his intention at first. What he meant to do was not panic about this change in attitude towards Malfoy and simply continue on in life, but it turned into stares during breakfast very quickly. He still fired the usual insults when he passed him in the hall, but the moment they sat down at their tables, his eyes would find their way to the Slytherin table. It was exhausting and frustrating and infuriating, but he couldn't stop doing it. Pansy and Blaise had caught him multiple times, but he would always wave quickly and pretend to be trying to catch their attention. The person who he was actually staring at either didn't notice or ignored him. He probably ignored him. It was Draco Malfoy after all.

That was the thing though. It was Draco Malfoy. A year ago, hell, a month ago, you could've told him Malfoy had just died and he would shrug and then continue eating his Frosties. He wasn't quite sure what he would do if you told him now, but he did know it was quite the opposite of that.

But Harry had decided staring wouldn't hurt a soul. He could stare as much as he wanted and he could develop the biggest crush in the history of crushes, because as long as he didn't act on it, everything would be fine. In fact, he had composed an entire list of what he could do and what was completely off limits when he couldn't sleep one night. He was staring through a small opening of the curtains around his bed at Malfoy's bed, who always slept with his curtains open. It was somewhere after midnight and he'd just been brutally woken by Seamus and Dean. At that point they had already sneaked – which included Seamus almost falling down the stairs and Dean trying not to laugh – down to the common room, but Harry couldn't seem to fall asleep again, so he was staring at moonlit blond locks across the room. Then Malfoy's head turned and Harry noticed a change in his breathing.

'Potter, are you staring at me?'

'No', Harry sputtered, quickly turning around in his bed. _Curse everything_ , He thought. He pressed his face into his pillow, trying to suppress the red heat rushing to his cheeks. It was dark and nobody would see it, but the fact that Malfoy made him blush with six words was still incredibly embarrassing.

The sound of rain falling softly drowned out his thoughts as he resurfaced from the depths of his pillow. He immediately turned Malfoy's way, then quickly turned around. He hated how fast it had turned into a habit.

'Stop making so much noise', Malfoy groaned from the dark.

'Stop talking and go to sleep', he bit back.

There was a pause, and then a shuffle from Malfoy's bed. 'I can't sleep.'

Harry frowned to the darkness, then he turned back around to face Malfoy's way. 'Me neither.'

Malfoy sniffed. 'Some say when you can't sleep, it's because someone's thinking about you. Like their thoughts are keeping you awake.'

'Hm', Harry replied, knowing damn well it was the only thing he could say as his heart ran a marathon in his chest. _Yes idiot_ , He thought. _I'm thinking about you. All the time. Sorry if I'm giving you insomnia because of it._

'Anyway', Malfoy sighed.

'Anyway.'

That was the moment Harry came up with a list, containing everything he could and couldn't do when it came to Draco Malfoy.

_Level one: acceptable_

_\- Staring_

_\- Dreaming_

_\- Insulting_

_Level two: a little dangerous, but acceptable depending on the situation_

_\- Talking like normal people_

_\- Smiling_

_Level three: Harry James Potter, you're playing a dangerous game_

_\- Touching_

_\- Complementing_

_\- Whatever it was that happened during the Hogsmeade trip_

He concluded that if he stayed on level one, everything would be completely fine and he'd be safe from Draco Malfoy for the rest of his life. He wasn't going to let himself fall for a death eater. He wasn't going to let himself fall for a Slytherin. He wasn't going to let himself fall for someone who was supposed to be his enemy. But he could stare. He could stare all he wanted.

'Harry!' _Oh, maybe he couldn't_

He ripped his eyes away from Malfoy, who was having his sixth piece of toast (Harry noticed he had days where he ate in with marmite and days where he ate it with butter and cinnamon sugar. Cinnamon sugar days tended to be good days, marmite days usually ended up in him rolling his eyes at everyone all day long.)

'Harry!' Ron repeated.

'Sorry', Harry shook his head. 'What?' He smiled. Ron sighed.

'Bloody hell mate, where's your head?'

Harry pressed his lips together. _Trust me, you don't want to know_ , He thought.

'It's fine', Hermione reassured him. 'We're all a little absent-minded from the holidays. Oh, that reminds me! How was your Christmas? Did you get Molly's sweater?'

He had, in fact, gotten Molly's sweater. It was dark red, with a golden H, as always.

'It was fine', he said. He wasn't really sure if he wanted them to know he spend his Christmas at a Slytherin party and then spend New Years with Draco Malfoy on a sofa.

'What did you do?' Hermione asked.

'Just.. you know.'

She frowned. 'I do not know.'

'There was a little party..'

Ron looked up from his plate of eggs and beans and toast and some unidentifiable things. 'A party? Where?'

Harry focused on the bowl of Frosties in front of him as he stirred his spoon. 'The Slytherin common room', he mumbled.

'You went to a party in the Slytherin common room? Why?'

'Ronald! The Slytherins can be very nice. I'm sure Harry had a great time.'

'With the Slytherins? You're out of your mind.'

'They're not monsters.'

'They're worse.'

'Ronald!'

'Alright', Harry sighed, his spoon clattering as he let it fall into the milk. 'It was quite an enjoyable evening. And Hermione's right, they can be quite nice, apart from Malfoy. Pansy and Blaise, they're nice people. Sometimes. Can we drop the subject now?'

'Mate....'

'Drop it Ron.'

'Fine. Done. Dropped.'


	7. seven ~ january

Two weeks into January and Harry realized that he was now friends with Slytherins. He was quite proud of himself and hoped McGonagall would share the same enthusiasm.

Pansy and Blaise were a blast during classes. They were the opposite of people like Malfoy and Hermione, who spend the entire class focusing on the professor and scrabbling down every word that left their mouth. Pansy and Blaise drew strange portraits on their portraits. They threw notes towards innocent strangers and tried to hold up as many middle fingers as they could every class. Ron was somewhere in the middle. Harry simply watched the entire scene play out in front of him.

Apparently Hermione and Pansy were very good friends, but Hermione had never really told Ron or him because she was afraid they'd stick their nose up in the air and walk away. But, now that Harry had found a strange friendship in the Slytherin duo, she had stopped hiding her fondness of Pansy. They ended up all sitting together during classes. Pansy, Blaise, Hermione, Harry and Ron (Who was only there because of Harry and Hermione, but had admitted that the Slytherins were growing on him.) The only one ruining the fun was Malfoy, like always. He refused to sit with them and, based on what Harry had seen the past week, had been ignoring Pansy and Blaise since Hermione and Ron returned from the Burrow. Harry couldn't ignore what Malfoy had said during New Years. _They would trade me for you in a heartbeat._ He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

It wasn't his fault though. It was Malfoy's. If he could just get over the fact that Pansy and Blaise had other friends, he wouldn't have to be so bitter. All he had to do was stop sulking and sit with them. Harry knew Pansy and Blaise well enough by now to know they would never drop Malfoy for him or Hermione. But somewhere deep inside, Harry was so immensely glad Malfoy never joined them. It would be much more difficult for him to stay on level one if Malfoy was seated close to him all the time.

Luckily, he was still comfortably seated on level one at this point. He had to admit that he hadn't gotten through a breakfast or dinner without staring at Malfoy, but he had also been insulting him a lot more lately, so that cancelled each other out. Besides, the git never noticed him staring, and neither did Hermione or Ron, so it was harmless.

Apparently Pansy's birthday was coming up. January 14th. She'd been talking about it all week. Not to mention the fact her and Blaise kept sneaking of during meals, or the fact that they both came walking into the common room, their eyes focused on him. Harry felt like he was about to get kidnapped. He tried to hide behind his potions book as they let themselves fall onto the two empty seats of the sofa, next to him. They wore grins that couldn't mean anything good.

'Hello', Blaise spoke, still grinning from ear to ear.

'Hi', Harry said. 'Should I be scared?'

'Perhaps', Blaise tilted his head.

Pansy slapped his arm. 'No', she said, redirecting her focus on Harry. 'Harry, you know it's my birthday tomorrow right?'

'Yes. You wouldn't dare to let any of us forget.'

'Well, my birthday is a very important day', she mused. 'Anyway, you are hereby invited to my birthday party', a smile crept onto her face.

_That wasn't as bad as he expected._

'In Hogsmeade.'

_There it was._

'In Hogsmeade?' Harry repeated.

'Yes.'

'Merlin...'

Pansy moved closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 'Is that a yes?'

There was no way he could say no to this. 'Yes.'

Which is how he found himself in a corridor, shivering, while waiting on Hermione and Ron. Hermione had actually been the one to suggest the idea, to his surprise. They had a very well thought out plan. Harry's plan was to simply do whatever they did. He looked around the corner and saw his friends approach. Hermione's hand was closed over Ron's mouth, who was trailing along like a sad puppy. Pansy had a plastic tiara stuck in her hair and a sparkling black dress that would make it very difficult for them to sneak out. Next to her Blaise was already drinking fire whiskey. Harry decided he was better off not knowing where he got it.

'Sorry we're late!' Pansy whispered.

'Birthday girl doesn't have to say sorry', Blaise stated.

Harry frowned. 'Technically, it's not her birthday yet. It's only eleven pm.'

'Don't ruin it.'

Harry smirked as Pansy and Hermione led the way. Ron mumbled something along the lines of being able to stay quiet when Hermione removed her hand from over his mouth.

Harry swallowed, watching the others walk through the corridor. He had been friends with Hermione and Ron since the first year, and he knew for a fact Pansy, Blaise and Malfoy had been as well. Though he knew it wasn't his fault Malfoy wasn't here, he couldn't help but feel like it was. Malfoy certainly felt like it was, that he knew. But it didn't really matter who's fault it was; Pansy was about to turn eighteen and Malfoy was probably somewhere up in the common room feeling sorry for himself, which made Harry very, very angry for multiple reasons. He would never dare to miss Ron's birthday, or Hermione's birthday. You don't skip out on your friends' birthdays just because you're not very fond of their other friends. He didn't really think it through, but he slipt back into another corridor and marched back to the eight year common room. Draco Malfoy was a self absorbed arsehole and Harry was about to teach him what being friends with someone meant.

He found the blond seated on one of the sofa's, flipping the page of a tiny, wrinkled book. He was the only one there. Of course he was. Any sensibly person would be asleep by now. Harry knew exactly why Malfoy wasn't.

He also knew Malfoy took notice of him the minute he entered the room, but he stayed looking at the book. _Special occasions call for violations of the levels_ , Harry thought as he took a seat next to Malfoy, who still refused to look up. _Fine_ , He thought. He reached out for the book, slammed it shut and threw it on the salon table.

'I was reading that.'

'Not anymore.'

Malfoy sighed. 'What do you want, Potter?'

'I want you to stop moping, get up and join us for the night because it's your best friend's birthday and you're supposed to be there', he spoke, trying to keep eye contact.

Malfoy kept staring at his feet. 'Just leave. This isn't your problem.'

'It is. Because Pansy is my friend and I know she wants you to be there. So stop feeling so sorry for yourself, suck it up and come break about a million rules with us.'

He turned his head, his eyes meeting Harry's eyes. _For fuck sake_ , Harry thought. _You're going to show your freckles now? Really? That's so low._

'I'm not coming if you are going to be there.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Oh, boohoo', he gritted his teeth. 'You hate me, I get it. I hate you too. But that shouldn't matter right now, because this is about Pansy. You're free to ignore me all night.'

Malfoy paused and bit his lip and Harry wanted to scream at him to stop because it was very distracting, but before he could, Malfoy spoke. 'Fine.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Don't make a big deal out of it because I will change my mind', he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. 'Where to?'

'Hogsmeade', Harry smirked, standing up too.

'Hilarious.'

'I'm quite serious actually.'

'How are we going to get to Hogsmeade?'

Harry tilted his head. 'Well, they're going to take the normal route, but I happen to know a secret tunnel.'

~

Harry was very much aware that he was on level three now that he was back into the tunnel under the whomping willow with Malfoy, but this was an emergency. It was a faster way to get there, and the other's had probably already arrived. So, he concluded that it was fine and not a violation of the rules. They'd thrown multiple stones at the trunk of the tree to get it to stop sweeping it's branches around, then they'd crawled into the tunnel. Harry was leading the way, holding Malfoy's wand to produce light because he'd forgot his own.

'Don't break it', Malfoy said.

'Yes Malfoy', Harry replied. 'You've said that about three times now. Please shut up.'

Malfoy's footsteps echoed behind him and Harry tried not to pay attention to how close he was to him. He could hear his soft breathing, could almost feel it on the back of his neck. Maybe he was exaggerating. Maybe it was all in his head. He had to get Malfoy out of his head. Relief rushed through him as they approached the door to the shrieking shack. He turned around and handed Malfoy his wand, then walked to open the door. He stepped through the hole, the floor of the shack squeaking under his weight. Behind him Malfoy followed.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he turned around and held out his hand. Before Malfoy even knew what he was doing, he gently took a hold of Harry's hand as he stepped out of the tunnel. For mere seconds neither of them noticed anything, then Malfoy's eyes widened and stared at their hands, entwined. Malfoy's eyes shifted to Harry's, back to their hands, back to Harry, back to their hands. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to say something, but all stayed quiet. Harry was sure he felt Malfoy's fingers brush against his palm before he pulled his hand back. He walked past him, tumbling down the stairs.

Harry finally started breathing again. In his head, alarm bells started ringing as he broke through the ceiling of level three. _Harry James Potter, you're playing a dangerous game._

~

'Can we get another drink for the golden boy?!'

Harry buried his face in the palms of his hands. Next to him Pansy hiccupped, followed by a roar of laughter from Ron and another hiccup from Hermione. _Since when am I the designated sober friend?_ Harry questioned. Or well, he wasn't the only sober one. Malfoy had been sitting in the back of the pub all night, glaring at his friends whenever they had the least bit of fun. At least he wasn't glaring at Harry this time.

Blaise raised his hand again and Harry quickly lowered it. He wasn't quite sure how long they'd been in Hogsmeade, but he did know it was time to go. He also knew it was up to him to get his friends back to bed in one piece. Blaise pouted at him as Harry threw away the last of his drink and pulled him out of his chair.

'Come on', he said. 'It's time for all of you to sober up back at Hogwarts.'

He turned his head. 'Mind giving me a hand with this?'

'Not my problem', Malfoy clicked his tongue.

'Malfoy, I will literally hex you.'

'I would like to see you try.'

Harry sighed, turned back around and pulled on Ron's arm, who in turn pulled Hermione with him.

'Hey!' Hermione said.

Harry had never seen Hermione drunk. Turned out she just started rambling on and on, spitting out random facts. It was the most on-brand thing he had ever seen. He pulled Ron, Hermione and Blaise outside and seated them on one of the benches covered in snow, then turned around to get Pansy. To his surprise, Malfoy walked out, dragging Pansy along.

'Well don't just stand there', he said. 'Let's go get this lot into the castle so I can finally sleep.'

Blaise was an absolute nightmare when he was drunk. He was extremely hilarious, that was, but also incredibly difficult to convince to follow them, constantly distracted by every shop they passed. Ron and Hermione were laughing very loudly as they walked at the front, but it were Pansy and Blaise who were rolling into snow and running of to different buildings. Harry felt as if he was dealing with toddlers. Ron seemed to have sobered up a little halfway through the walk and tried to keep the Slytherins on track. Harry had never loved his best friend more.

'You were a real arsehole in there', Harry said.

'Good. I didn't even want to be there', Malfoy scoffed.

'They can have other friends.'

'Not if those other friends are you.'

Harry stopped walking, Malfoy mirroring his movements. He watched as their other friends trailed along, Blaise loudly singing happy birthday.

'So it's just me?' Harry asked, looking back at Malfoy. 'You don't care if they're friends with Hermione or Ron. All this just because they're friends with me?'

Malfoy paused. 'Yes.'

'Do you truly hate me that much?' he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, anger bottling up inside of him.

Malfoy let out a sound that was somewhere in between a laugh and a scoff, and Harry watched as the blond shook his head. He looked at his feet, making footprints in the snow. 'No.'

'Then what is it?' Harry knew he was talking too loudly, but he didn't care. Pansy and Blaise were Malfoy's friends, and Malfoy was treating them like filth on his jacket.

'You're so stupid Potter', Malfoy spoke. He turned around, staring straight at Harry. 'I don't hate you.'

'I find that hard to believe. You'll do anything not to be around me.'

Malfoy pressed his lips together, a sad smile lingering. 'Yeah', he breathed. 'I know. But I don't hate you.'

'Nothing about this makes sense. Did you drink tonight?'

'Can we drop it? They're probably already halfway down the corridors or passed out somewhere in the snow', he nodded the castle's way. 'And I'm tired. I don't want to spend my night arguing with Harry Potter.' Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, leaving Harry in the snow. He followed. What else was he supposed to do?

See, Harry didn't care if Malfoy hated him. Okay, maybe he did, a tiny bit, but if anything, it made it easier to hate him back. Because he still did. He still hated Malfoy, no matter how much he dreamed about him. Malfoy was his sworn enemy. The past few weeks he hadn't as much as thought about the idea of hating Malfoy. Now it was all he thought about. He knew Malfoy saw Pansy's reaction every time he didn't sit with them, or ignored them during classes. The worst thing was that Malfoy simply brushed it off, as if he wasn't throwing away his best friends just because he hated Harry so much.

Harry jogged after him. Blaise immediately threw his arm around him when he finally caught up to speed with them, mumbling some things he didn't understand. Then Blaise decided to stop using his sight and bumped into the corner of a corridor. Harry helped him up as everyone else kept walking.

'Harryyyyy', Blaise smiled. 'My good friend.'

'Yes. You're very tired good friend. Please hurry up, or I'm going to collapse in the middle of this corridor and sleep on the floor', he sighed.

Blaise swung his arm around Harry's shoulder once again. Harry forced himself to smile. _Patience_ , He thought.

'You won't sleep on the floor', Blaise replied with a half-smile.

'I might.'

'Draco would never let you.'

'Malfoy would throw me into the lake if he had the chance. But I don't want to talk about him.'

'I wonder what frogs think about.'

Harry simply smiled.

~

Harry loved seeing his friends over. It was, perhaps, a bit mean, but he couldn't annoy the joy that it brought him. Seeing Hermione burry her face in a book because she was hungover was an entirely new look compared to seeing her burry her face in a book because she was so into the story. Pansy and Blaise always seemed to handle hangovers quite well though. They were loudly singing happy birthday now that it was Pansy's actual birthday. Ron chimed in from time to time. When he wasn't singing along, he was either comforting Hermione or joining her and burying his head in a cushion.

Pansy pulled him and Hermione off the couch and yelled something about breakfast, pushing Blaise out the door. Harry followed, smiling broadly as people frowned at their loud singing. Then he knew one of those people. Malfoy glared at his (former?) friends as they passed. Pansy smiled at him, to which he rolled his eyes, and Harry tried not to show his anger. He failed miserably halfway through the corridor.

'I forgot my books', he muttered. Pansy and Blaise were too busy singing, Ron and Hermione were too busy trailing along like two sad puppies.

He pushed a couple of first years to the side. He hated Malfoy. He hated him and he hated the way he was acting and he hated the fact that he blamed himself for it, because he knew it wasn't his fault. It was, simply put, infuriating, and it made Harry want to punch a wall. Or Malfoy. Perhaps he could punch Malfoy. Break his nose like he broke Harry's. That seemed fair.

He walked through the door, the last eight year students finally leaving the common room. Except for Malfoy, who had breakfast very early every morning to avoid seeing Pansy and Blaise and, of course, Harry.

'Malfoy!'

He didn't even bother turning around before he spoke. 'Go away Potter.'

'I hate you so much right now.'

'Don't you always?'

'Well, it's reached a new high today.'

Malfoy finally turned around, their eyes locking. He looked calm. It made Harry angrier.

'You're a coward', Harry spoke. He tried to keep his voice calm, but it shook instead.

'Potter', Malfoy sighed. 'Look me right in the eyes and ask yourself; does this look like someone who cares what Harry Potter has to say about him?'

'You're a bad friend', Harry bit, stepping forward. 'They might not show it, but they feel like shit. I don't care what issues you're dealing with right now, you don't do that to your friends.'

'I know! I'm the bad guy. Old news Potter. Are you going to do something about it, or are you going to keep whining?'

'You're a coward, Malfoy. You've always been a coward. You were born a coward. Couldn't even kill Dumbledore, so Snape had to do it for you. I bet your mother knew you couldn't do it. She knew her son was too much of a cowa-'

Harry didn't have a lot of déjà vu's, but he would definitely categorize this as one as the blood gushed down his face, staining his lips dark red. He grabbed his nose.

'At least you didn't use a door this time', he said between gritted teeth.

Malfoy opened his mouth, but he didn't talk. Instead he ran past Harry. _I'm going to break his nose sometime,_ Harry thought, wiping away the blood. He covered his nose with his sleeve. _I'm going to break his nose and then I'm going to kiss him. Merlin, what is happening to me?_ He sighed, immediately regretting it as more blood spilled from his nose onto his sleeve.

Hermione and Ron had joined the Slytherin table, for the special occasion that was Pansy's birthday, and as Harry approached them, he decided he wouldn't say a word about Malfoy. Only then Hermione gasped and Ron's eyes widened and Pansy let go of her fork as it hit her plate and filled the great hall with a clattering sound.

'It was Draco, wasn't it?' Pansy sighed. 'I know he's my friend, but I'm going to kill him.'

'It wasn't him', Harry lied.

'It doesn't matter who it was', Hermione said. 'You need to go to madam Pomfrey.'

'Right', Harry frowned. _Why didn't you think of that, idiot?_

'I'll come with', Ron swallowed his food.

Harry didn't really mind. Ron was too busy complaining about his hangover to notice how absent-minded Harry was. Things are very confusing, Harry decided. List. A list would help. 

_1) Malfoy had just punched him and (probably) broken his nose. (For the second time that school year)_

_2) He was positive he had never hated Draco Malfoy more than he did right now._

_3) He was also positive he had never wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy more than he did right now._

'Harry.'

'Huh?'

Ron tilted his head. 'I have to get to class. See you in a bit?'

'Oh yeah', Harry smiled, pressing his lips together and stepping aside for a girl who's arm looked like something that wasn't an arm. He frowned, then followed her in. Madam Pomfrey immediately ran her way and they disappeared behind some curtains. Next to the door stood someone who Harry had already seen too much that day. Or too little. He couldn't decide.

'Hello', he said, leaning against the wall, next to Malfoy.

'I'm not here for you', he replied a little too quickly.

'I didn't think you were.'

'Good.'

'I think you broke my nose.'

'I was aiming for your glasses.'

'Right. Shattered glass is very dramatic.'

From the other side of the room, madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtains. Her eyes immediately focused on Harry.

'Harry!' She smiled, walking his way. 'There you are! Draco was waiting for you.'

Harry looked Malfoy's way and raised his brow. The blond simply looked at the floor.

'I'll be right there my boy', madam Pomfrey continued. 'But whatever happened to that poor girl's arm... well, let's just say it's not supposed to look like that', and just like that she disappeared again.

'She's lying', Malfoy immediately said.

'Of course she is', Harry paused, then asked: 'Why are you here, Malfoy?'

He sighed. 'Does it matter?'

'I think so.'

'Why can't you just accept that I am here? Do you have to know why?'

Before he could reply, madam Pomfrey returned.

'Harry, Harry, Harry. That nose of yours does not look good.' She lifted his chin with a single finger. 'That is a very nasty break. How did you manage that?'

'Walked into a wall', he murmured.

'Are you sure your glasses work?' She frowned.

Malfoy chuckled. Harry kicked him.

'Alright, this might hurt', Pomfrey said.

'Can you make him cry?' Malfoy offered.

Harry didn't even notice the pain that came with madam Pomfrey's spell to fix his nose. All he noticed was the smile lingering on Malfoy's lips as he stared at him. Just like he didn't notice her leaving.

'Potter.'

'Huh?'

'I said it's not your fault. That I'm ignoring them', Malfoy stood up and Harry immediately did too. Malfoy frowned. He started walking, Harry following him.

'You made it pretty clear that it is', Harry mumbled.

'You're the reason, but it's not your fault.'

He hadn't noticed they'd entered the great hall already. Pansy looked confused as she watched them approaching.

'What are you doing?' Harry asked softly.

'Taking your advice.'

'It wasn't really advice.'

'No.. you just got mad at me, but it worked.'

Harry was surprised nobody heard his heart beating as he and Malfoy took place at the Slytherin table.


	8. eight ~ february

‘Harry!'

Harry lowered the blanket from his head and shone the light coming from his wand through the common room. In the door opening stood the Slytherin trio, grinning from ear to ear, soaking wet from head to toe. Blaise ran his way and shook his sleeves, showering him in. He tried to push him away while he scrambled up from the sofa and almost fell over.

'Stop!' He screamed, hiding under the blanket once again.

'Blaise stop tormenting the poor boy', Pansy laughed. She ran their way and held Blaise's wrist behind his back.

'May I ask why you guys look like you've gone swimming in the great lake?' Harry frowned, only allowing his eyes to show.

'Because we have', Blaise smirked.

'Excuse me?'

'It was a full moon', Pansy sighed with a big smile. 'It was perfect! And a bit cold, but mostly perfect.'

Malfoy, who had been silently standing in the doorway, emerged from the dark and stood behind his friends. Harry couldn't keep his eyes from widening slightly. He knew Malfoy and Pansy and Blaise were back on speaking terms, but this seemed like everything was fine once again. It was almost like nothing happened between the trio. Malfoy stared at his shoes, water droplets dripping from his hair. Harry forgot to listen to whatever Pansy was saying. Harry watched as Malfoy shifted on his feet, noticed the way his shirt clung to his chest, the way his eyelashes were painted dark against his pale skin. He wondered if he knew how mesmerizing he was.

It was unbelievably unfair how impossible it was not to look at him as he smiled sheepishly at a joke Blaise made. Harry wanted to frame the sight and keep it in his pocket where ever he went. Then he came to his senses and wanted to hide under his blanket till Malfoy became an annoying Slytherin again.

Harry stared at the plaid pattern on his blanket, trying to divert his mind.

'Potter?' He looked up, finding everyone had left the middle of the common room. Malfoy stood at the beginning of the stairs to the boy's dormitory's and Pansy and Blaise were already out of sight.

'What?' Harry blinked.

Malfoy tilted his head. 'Are you coming with or are you planning on sleeping down here?'

He quickly stood up, the blanket falling onto the floor. 'I'm coming with', he said.

'Okay', Malfoy responded. 'Good.'

'Yeah.'

Unspoken words were left floating around the common room as they walked upstairs.

~

February started with cold nights and long essays.

While Harry was a procrastinator whenever, it seemed his fellow students only mirrored this behavior during the winter times. It was a Sunday, a little past eleven, and the entire common room was filled. Enchanted candles were flying around the room, granting everyone light as the snow fell down on the outside. Hermione was the only one who wasn't busy with school. Unfortunately, she had decided to leave all of them to their own devices when it came to essays, so they'd been sitting in front of the hearth, pounding over their potions materials for hours now. Hermione tried to hide her amusement, but they could all see it. Somewhere around eleven thirty Malfoy had joined them. Which made everything even worse, because where it had previously been difficult to focus on school, it was now impossible.

Malfoy had been joining them more often now, which seemed to brighten Pansy's and Zabini's mood. If he had to break his nose for that, then he was fine with it. What he wasn't fine with was the very noticeable change in Malfoy's behavior. He still insulted Harry with every chance he got, but Harry had to be deaf and blind and utterly stupid to not acknowledge his smiles and smirks and stares. But then again, maybe he was imagining things, because Ron certainly didn't notice it during a mid-morning study session in the library. They were trying to figure out their astrology homework when Malfoy walked in. Which Harry immediately noticed (and he hated that he did.)

Malfoy walked over to the countless bookshelves and Harry felt a little too tired to forbid his eyes from following. Then Malfoy looked up and tilted his head and smiled. Like the Christmas party smile. Harry felt like all the books in the library had come tumbling down at once. But he smiled back, something Ron noticed. The thing, however, was that when Ron looked around and saw Malfoy, he didn't comment on the smile. And so maybe he'd been imaging everything.

Harry had been doing incredibly bad when it came to staying on level one too. It was almost like level two was now the new level one, which made it even harder not to reach level three. But it was essential. Reaching level three would be like finding himself many levels under rock bottom. He'd promised himself he wouldn't fall for the Slytherin and he was very set on upholding that promise. But then Malfoy sat down opposite from him and he read his book with a concentrated look on his face and he fumbled with the pages and he slightly tilted his head and falling to rock bottom suddenly felt like flying.

 _You're staring,_ He told himself _. I can stare, it's level one_ , He replied. In a flash of a second, Malfoy looked up from his book and their eyes locked. Malfoy frowned and mouthed "What?" Harry shook his head. "Nothing." He tried not to smile. Malfoy nodded towards the piece or parchment that laid on his lap and Harry quickly looked down. There was something written down in the middle, but it wasn't his handwriting.

_You should stop staring and start writing your essay._

It disappeared immediately after he read it. He looked up, his eyes widened, and Malfoy grinned. Then he mouthed: "Reply, arsehole." There was the insult, Harry thought.

**_Why are you writing on my parchment?_ **

_Because I want to._

**_How are you writing on my parchment?_ **

_Well, Potter, I don't want to shock you, but we are wizards._

**_You're hilarious._ **

_You're annoying._

**_Excuse me? You're the one writing on my parchment._ **

_That is true._

Harry shook his head, then looked back to Malfoy. It seemed the git had already returned his attention to the book he was reading. Harry covered his cheeks with the palms of his hands to hide the red flush. It was nothing, He thought. You always do this. You always annoy each other. He was merely trying to piss you off, that's all. But.., Luckily, his thoughts got cut off by a knock on the door.

'Does anyone have a date tonight?' Blaise asked.

'It's almost midnight', a Hufflepuff girl commented. 'So I don't think so.'

'Don't look at me!' Pansy exclaimed as they eyed her.

'Well, you do have a lot of hookups', a Ravenclaw replied.

'Pansy, open the door', Blaise sighed.

'It's not for me!'

'I'll go', Ron said while standing up. 'But I think whichever lucky girl is behind that door will be very disappointed if I show up instead of Pansy.'

'Shove off Weasley.'

Ron smirked and held up his middle finger as he walked to the door.

_Merlin Potter, I thought we told you to stop inviting your dates at midnight._

**_I only do tunnel dates. You'd know that by now._ **

_Is that an invitation?_

**_You wish._ **

'Oh Merlin', Hermione gasped next to him.

He looked up. Walking into the common room, followed by Ron, was someone he hoped was nobody's hookup. McGonagall stared at the room in disapproval and Harry was suddenly very aware of the posters he and Ron put up at the end of November. Red posters with golden letters reading _Slytherins Suck_. Blaise shifted in his seat to try and cover the poster they had made in response, which read Ban All _Gryffindors 1998-1999_. Their professor shook her head and sighed silently as Ron ran back to them.

'What is she doing here?' Harry whispered.

'Like I bloody know!'

'Good evening', McGonagall smiled. 'I have a small announcement. I am very pleased with all the progress we have made in regards to house unity these past months, but I believe there is still a long way to go. That is why I have decided to host a ball for you and the seventh year students on valentine's day', she smiled, as though she was doing them a favor. Everyone looked positively mortified, but Harry drowned their groans and McGonagall's voice out when he noticed someone writing on his parchment.

_Do we tell her that a valentine's ball isn't going to fix the relationships between the houses?_

**_Let's just let her be optimistic._ **

_Maybe this time you don't have to dance in front of everyone._

**_I would rather not revisit that moment in my life, thank you very much._ **

_Do me a favor and don't ask anyone to be your date._

**_Why?_ **

_Just don't._

**_Alright. Only if you don't ask anyone either._ **

_Deal._

**_Brilliant._ **

_Splendid. What color tie are you wearing?_

**_I don't know yet. She just told us two minutes ago._ **

_I've already planned out an entire outfit._

**_Not everyone's as vain as you Malfoy._ **

_With good reason, not everyone's as good looking as me._

**_I'm not going to reply to that._ **

_Fine. Let me know what color when you figure it out._

Oh how he wished he could figure things out.

~

The eighth year students were revolting.

Nobody really had a problem with the valentine's day ball. Not until McGonagall made it a mandatory thing. The first students to complain were those in a relationship, who had already made plans and didn't want to spend their evening at an off-brand version of the yule ball. Then those who had simply wanted to be in charge of their own Sunday evening joined their rebellions. Eventually only a handful of Hufflepuffs, Neville, a singular Ravenclaw, Harry and Pansy weren't completely opposed to the idea. Neville, apparently, really like ballroom dancing and Pansy simply liked all parties. Harry was very much aware that his reason was less valid than theirs. He wasn't even sure if it came close to being valid. The bottom line was that Malfoy was very confusing and that he wasn't sure what to make of the parchment thing.

Technically, Malfoy hadn't asked him to go to the ball with him, but he did ask him not to ask anyone else. Either he was incredibly opposed to the idea of Harry having fun with anyone else, because Harry was Harry and Malfoy's life was centered around stealing his joy, or it was because Malfoy wanted to go with him. Harry knew the latter was very unlikely, seeing as he had broken his nose only a week ago, but that didn't keep him from daydreaming about it. He hated it. He didn't want to think about a blond, (former) death-eater who only threw insults at him during his charms classes, but it happened nonetheless. It didn't help that Malfoy sat in front of him, so he was already basically forced to stare at him throughout the class. Luckily for him, Ron was too busy making protest signs with Blaise. They were planning on showing up with a lot of them at McGonagall's office later that day. Harry knew she would never change her mind, but he let them have their fun.

Malfoy's head turned and he found Harry staring at him. _Brilliant_ , Harry thought. He swallowed and looked away, tried to pretend he wasn't shamelessly staring at him.

'Hi Potter', Malfoy sighed, though he didn't sound tired, and his face was plastered with something in between a smile and a smirk.

'Hello', Harry said, his voice cracked.

'Do you know what color tie your going to wear yet?'

'I don't.'

'If you do, let me know.'

'Okay. I will.'

Okay, maybe it had been a strange way of asking him to go together. Harry couldn't think of another reason why someone would want to know someone else's tie color. But why in the name of Merlin would Draco Malfoy want to go to a valentine's ball with Harry Potter? Maybe it was all part of a plan to embarrass him. Or maybe he'd missed something the past few days. Malfoy had joined them a lot more and Harry did notice he always acknowledged Harry. But why? Why would he do that? He hated him. He hated him so much he avoided his friends for weeks just so he wouldn't be near him. He broke his nose. Twice. Everything made Harry's brain hurt, so he just let his head fall onto his desk and sighed.

~

It was February 12th and Harry had two problems.

  1. He was completely losing his mind trying to figure out what Malfoy meant when he asked him not to ask anyone else to the ball. He had come up with a million different reasons, each less likely than the other, and he still hadn't come to a conclusion.
  2. He still didn't know what tie he was going to wear.



Malfoy wasn't helping him figure out his first problem as he took a seat next to him on the sofa in the common room. It was nothing strange. Malfoy had joined them everyday for the past couple of days. Everyone was busy with NEWT preparations. Harry shouldn't feel nervous about it. He told himself this over and over again, but it didn't seem to click. Next to him, Malfoy opened up a potions book. Harry felt positively radiant as their shoulders brushed.

~

It was February 13th and Harry had three problems.

  1. He was still losing his mind. He concluded he might've already lost it when he could practically hear his heart flutter as Malfoy walked into the room.
  2. Pansy, Blaise and Neville wanted him to join them as a group date for the ball, but he wasn't sure if he had a date or not.
  3. He still didn't know what tie he was going to wear.



He decided he would join his friends as a group date. If he wouldn't, they'd start asking questions, and he had no answers to give them (or himself, for that matter.)

That still left him with two problems. He rested his chin on his hands as he stared in front of him, waiting for professor Binns to start the lesson, as the door flew open. You see, Draco Malfoy was never late. This was absolutely perfect, because that way they were never forced to sit close to each other. But now he stood in the doorway with his hair ruffled, with his bag hanging from his shoulders and a red blush on his cheeks, panting as though he had just ran a marathon. It took Harry a few seconds before realizing why Malfoy was staring at him a little too long, which is how he realized the only empty seat was one next to him.

He redirected his eyes back to the front of the class. The room was filled with chattering students, but all he could hear were Malfoy's footsteps.

'Don't be so dramatic, Potter', he commented as he slid into the seat next to him.

'That's rich coming from you', Harry replied, refusing to look at him. 'You're the most dramatic person I know.'

'Exactly. So save the dramatics for me.'

It was Blaise who saved him from having to answer. 'Boys', he said, making both of them frown. 'I need your help.'

'With what?' Harry asked.

'What to wear to the ball of course.'

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he got his book out of his bag. 'Of course!' He repeated, slamming the book on the table.

'Draco, this is very important', Blaise said.

'I don't see how', Malfoy replied, lowering his hands and resting them against his neck. 'It shouldn't even be classified as a ball. It'll just be the seventh and eighth years. It's nothing special.'

'Draco, have you seen the boys and girls we have amongst our small group of students? It's valentine's day, and I'm set in finding a hookup.'

Harry gave him a faint smile and shook his head before looking back at professor Binns.

'What?' Blaise smirked at him. 'I don't have a line of suitors waiting for me, mister savior of the wizarding world, so I need to look good.'

'I don't have a line of suitors', Harry said. 'Besides, I'm not interested in hookups.'

'What about you Draco?' Blaise asked, looking at the blond who simply shrugged.

'I don't want a girlfriend.'

It was so quick, so subtle, that Harry didn't even realize it until it was over. Something brushed against the back of his hand for a mere second. Fast as light. He felt as though his heart was about to sink down in his body as Malfoy's fingers lightly touched his hand. He didn't dare to move, or breathe. He didn't dare to do anything to make Malfoy realize what he was doing, to make him snap back to reality. Then the Slytherin moved back. Harry looked at him, questions in his eyes, and in return he got confusion and pink stained cheeks.

~

It was February 14th and Harry had one major problem: he didn't know what tie to wear.

It was eight pm. The ball started at seven. He was standing in the middle of the boys dormitory's, staring at the ceiling, wearing a suit with no tie and hoping his friends would forgive him for being so late. Picking a color shouldn't have been such a big deal, but it was, and it was Malfoy's fault. If he hadn't asked him what color tie he was going to wear, he would've never even granted it a single thought. But now he thought about it constantly. Every color seemed wrong. Red was too red, green too green, blue too blue.

After a long minute of observing the ceiling, the door was thrown open by Blaise. He stood with his hands in his pockets and a stare that was caught between annoyance and excitement. Harry knew he had been keeping them waiting for much too long, but his suit remained without a tie. So, within mere seconds, he decided he would simply not wear a tie. It was too late to tell Malfoy what color his tie would be if he were to randomly pick a tie right now, so this seemed like the only sensible option. If there was no tie, there was no color. He nodded to himself and looked away from the ceiling, meeting Blaise's eyes.

'Ready?' Blaise asked.

He simply nodded and they went. Pansy was sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the sofa. She wore a short, dark green dress made of velvet material, with tights covered in hearts. She smiled at them when they caught her eye and lifted one leg. 'I thought hearts would be appropriate, since it valentine's day.'

'Aren't you cold?' Harry asked, nudging towards her bare arms.

'I am never cold', she stated.

She scrambled up from the floor and held out her hand to help Neville, who was seated beside her, up. He was wearing a suit like Harry's and he suddenly felt very unoriginal. He bet they got the same brand too, the only difference being Harry's lack of tie. Blaise, however, was wearing a velvet suit (which he most definitely coordinated with Pansy). It was dark red, because according to him, that was the only suitable color for a valentine's day ball. Pansy rolled her eyes at him as she linked her arm through Neville's.

'Oh', Neville frowned. 'We're not each other's date, right?'

Pansy tilted her head and formed a lopsided grin. 'Neville sweetheart, I play for the other team.'

Neville's frown only grew deeper and he turned Harry's way. 'What does that mean?' He mouthed.

He had no time to reply; he was being pulled away by Pansy as she linked her other arm through his arm.

'Hey, what about me?' Blaise scoffed.

'You walk fast', Pansy said. 'We can't keep up.'

Blaise merely shrugged as they walked out of the common room. They were the last to arrive, which had been entirely Harry's fault, but it seemed no one really mind. Except Blaise perhaps, who had developed a strange excitement for the ball. It didn't make a lot of sense, given the fact that he had been protesting outside of McGonagall's office only days ago, but a lot of things about Blaise didn't make sense, so they let it slip.

Harry couldn't deny the great hall looked absolutely stunning. The long dinner tables had been cleared away and swapped for small, round, glass tables with pastel pink tablecloths. There stood a chocolate fountain on both sides of the room, accompanied by piles of fruits and biscuits. There were light pink and white roses everywhere and the light filling up the hall was orange and pink, like sunset. The usual floating candles had also been removed. Instead, small clouds hung in the air, making the room look like a small piece of heaven. Next to him, Neville let out a small gasp, and Harry couldn't blame him.

They walked over to a small table close to one of the chocolate fountains and Blaise and Pansy immediately huddled around it. They spend their evening drinking melted chocolate or dipping strawberries in it. Sometimes Blaise and Pansy would disappear onto the dance floor and Harry and Neville would sit down at their table and make predictions about hookups that might happen. (Pansy and the seventh year Ravenclaw she'd been eyeing all night. Blaise and someone, though they weren't quite sure who yet, but Neville guessed a Hufflepuff named Mace. A seventh year Hufflepuff and Slytherin they didn't know by name, who had been dancing with different people all night while staring at each other the entire time.)

Then sometimes, when Neville was rambling about something, Harry's mind would wander and he'd find himself searching for blond locks in the crowd of students (which were a lot more people than just the eighth years and seventh years, since a lot of sixth years and some fifth years had decided to invite themselves.) However, Malfoy was nowhere to be found. _That's fine_ , Harry thought. _He's not my friend. I don't care what he does._

After concluding Pansy would most definitely hook up with more than one person, Ron and Hermione joined them. Their faces were flushed red from dancing and Hermione immediately kicked of her shoes.

'I hate high heels', she sighed.

'Having fun then?' Harry grinned.

'No', she replied without missing a beat. 'But it's a little better with Ron.'

Ron's cheeks flushed light pink and Harry turned his way to whisper something in his ear. 'How much has she had to drink?'

'Not that much', he replied in a hushed tone. 'A couple of sips, maybe.'

'What are you whispering about?' Hermione asked.

'Nothing', Harry said quickly. 'I just said you guys are very lucky to have each other', he plastered a smile on his face.

'Oh that’s sweet. Though I am sorry Harry. Sometimes I feel like we're neglecting you', Hermione's eyes widened. 'I don't know why I said that', she said. 'I'm sorry.'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'Oh erm.. that's fine. And you're not.. don't worry about it.'

'I feel a little bad about it. As if we're constantly reminding you of the fact that you're single', this time she slapped her hand in front of her mouth. 'Sorry.'

'Hermione?' Ron asked. 'Are you okay?'

She stared at him, wide eyed, then slowly removed her hand. 'Can you get Blaise?'

'Blaise?'

'Yes.'

Ron looked a tad confused, but got up from his chair and walked over to Pansy and Blaise.

'Hermione, why are you covering your mouth?' Neville asked.

She turned his way and slowly moved her hand a little. 'So I won't say something I regret.'

'Why would you do that?'

Before she could reply, Blaise slammed the table, grinning from ear to ear. 'Granger', he said in a tone that made Harry feel like he was missing something. 'You required my assistance?'

'This is your fault!' She exclaimed before quickly covering her mouth again.

Blaise only smiled. 'I should've know you'd be the first to figure it out.'

'Figure what out?' Harry asked.

Blaise turned his way, but it was Hermione who spoke. 'He put Veritaserum in the drinks.'

Harry's mouth fell open. 'Seriously?'

'You caught me', Blaise spoke proudly. 'I hope you haven't had much to drink.'

'I haven't had anything', Ron said.

Harry noted he and Neville hadn't either, but he was completely certain Pansy had. Just like almost all of the students. Suddenly Blaise's excitement for the ball made sense.

'Evil genius', Hermione said, her voice high.

Blaise bowed. 'Thank you', he said, taking seat next to Harry. 'Now, let's watch the chaos unfold.'

He wasn't being dramatic. As it turned out, high school gossip could be quite entertaining and with the right amount of truth serum, almost theatrical. Slowly people began to shout, or blush, or gape at what they or their friend said. It didn't take long for people to figure out what had happened, but there was nothing they could do about it. Pansy stormed their way, her hands it the air. 'I can't flirt with people if I'm constantly forced to tell the truth!' She yelled at Blaise. After only a few minutes, the entire hall was filled with chaos. People were covering their mouth like Hermione, trying to keep themselves from spilling whatever secrets they had.

Then he appeared. Blond locks moving through the hall, their way, and Malfoy looked pissed. 'Blaise, I swear to Merlin, I'm going to tip you off the astronomy tower', he gritted his teeth.

Blaise smiled widely. 'Draco! There you are.'

Harry didn't hear his reply; he was entirely focused on Malfoy's suit. He wasn't wearing a tie. It made Harry's heart jump in a way he didn't understand. Then Malfoy took notice of him and almost immediately pressed his lips together. Harry frowned at him and Blaise widened his eyes at the group, looking at them as if something very important had just happened.

'What?' Harry asked them.

Nobody responded. Instead, they watched as Malfoy ran out of the great hall.


End file.
